
LIBRARY OF CONGRESS. 



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The girls ran up the long steps and fitted the large key into the lock. 
Frontispiece. p. 29. 



Jean’s Opportunity 


BY 

HOWE BENNING 

I 

Author of '■'Hester Lenox," “ Quiet Corners," “ One Girl's Way Out," etc. 




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42 :® 62 

Copyright, 1899, by The American Sunday-School Union. 


TWO COPIES RECEIVED. 



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Contents. 


CHAP. py^CB 

I. What Has Jean? ^ 

II. The Old Academy 19 

III* Byways ^ . 36 

IV. Wealthy Torrey 34 

V. Working In 66 

VI. A Night Lesson 88 

VII. Interruptions 

VIII. Other Girls 119 

IX. Second Thoughts 134 

X. Mame Edson 146 

XI. What Is Jean? 164 

XII. Old — Yet New Friends 175 

XIII. Lena Experiments 190 

XIV. A Simple Tea-party 212 

XV. A Decision 236 

XVI. What One Ought 253 

XVII. Still More 273 

XVIII. A Letter and a Symphony 285 

XIX. Little Muff • *297 

XX. A Song in Prose 310 

XXL Still Looking Forward 324 


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-iii 






Jean’s Opportunity. 


CHAPTEE I. 

WHAT HAS JEAN? 

The haze of a midsummer afternoon lay 
lightly over the hills and vales of Williston. 
It was the time when Sirius claims his ascend- 
ency and gives days of heat and humidity and 
languor. 

In a long, upper street of the fine old town 
stood a house with a deeper and more velvety 
lawn than any other near by. It was not a 
modern, recently-built structure, of balloon 
frame, narrow bay windows, and a tower run 
up anywhere it might happen. Instead, the 
square, brick building with deep windows and 
massive door still retaining its brass lion 
knocker, told of years and a history. It spoke 
of family life ; of weddings that had been cele- 
brated in the large parlor at the right hand, 
and of trains of mourners who had wept their 
farewells in the same stately room. 

But at the back of the house, more modern 

5 


6 


JEAN^S OPPORTUNITY. 


ideas, with plenty of money, had left their im- 
press. Here, where the ground sloped rapidly, 
a broad piazza had been built entirely across 
the house. This was edged by a low railing, 
and with its mats and rugs, its small writing- 
table covered with books and papers ; another 
littered with woman’s handiwork ; its couch 
and easy chairs, latge and small, it presented 
the ideal out-of-doors home room so enjoyed in 
the brief northern summers. 

The view from here was magnificent. The 
slope that lifted the outer edge of the piazza 
far above the ground continued on to the deep, 
wide valley, where lay the tree-fringed streets 
of Lower Town. Here were busy factories 
and lovely homes: life, activity, and at the 
same time, rest. A winding stream that 
turned many wheels, shone to-day as a thread 
of silver until lost in the broken hills far to the 
left. Beyond the green town below rose the 
still greener hills, that swelled into eternal 
mountains, peak beyond peak, soft and smiling 
now in their summer tints and veiled sunlight, 
but stern and cold and terrible when the win- 
ter and ice held them. 

But the girl who had come out of the door, 
in deep mourning robes, seating herself beside 
the railing, looked off to the hills, and held a 
love for them at all seasons. 


WHAT HAS JEAN? 


7 


There had been much sympathy felt and ex- 
pressed, when, three months before. Judge 
Ilallock had been found at the call for break- 
fast, sitting in the same chair in his library 
where he had been left the night before, but 
with the seal of death upon his lips. 

The judge had been an honorable, upright, 
generous man, with the courtliness of the old- 
time school ; born and brought up in this old 
home of the Hallocks, and loving every tree 
and stone about it. 

“ But it isn’t as though the old place would 
be broken up or sold to strangers,” the dwellers 
in Williston, who hated to see changes, said. 
“Jean loves the place as well as her father did.” 

“ Yes, but she is a girl, a rich one at that, and 
ma}^ marry and move a thousand miles away.” 

“Perhaps; but even then she would never 
sell the home that has been the Hallocks’ so 
long, for more than a hundred years. There 
is too much ancestral pride in Jean ; and beside, 
whoever marries her will find that she is no 
yielding, rose-fed nature. If she takes an idea 
she will hold to it through everything.” 

You might not have thought this, perhaps, 
seeing her now. The slight figure leaned a 
little wearily on the railing. The lips were 
drooping; the soft breeze moved lightly a 
fluffy fringe of dark hair around the fair, oval 


8 


JEAN^S OPPORTUNITY. 


face; the large, brown eyes were bent in a 
long gaze toward one point, where she could 
catch a glimpse of the village cemetery. It 
was there her father was sleeping. 

Jean had been very fond of her father ; more 
so, perhaps, because he was her one near friend. 
She had neither brother nor sister, and only 
the faintest memory of being held up to look 
at a sweet, coffined face they had called her 
mother’s, while she distinctly remembered the 
sobbing all around the room that had excited 
her childish wonder. 

After that came a cousin of her father’s, a 
prim, precise maiden, to oversee the home and 
herself, but the girl had never thought of lov- 
ing her. 

Her father had her tanght at home ; he did 
a great deal of it himself unconsciously. When 
she was only nine she would curl herself into 
a small armchair, upholstered in red velvet, 
her own especial property in his library, and 
listen while he read to her by the hour. Some- 
times it was Shakespeare or Dickens, some- 
times Lady of the Lake or Whittier. She 
loved Whittier best, but it 'was all mnsic to 
her. He used to call her his “ Little Lady in 
Ked ” then, because of the chair. When she 
went away to school she locked it away in a 
closet so that no hand could touch it. 


WHAT HAS JEAN? 


9 


For she went away at seventeen. The judge 
had always said it must be so, and she never 
thought of anything else. The judge had 
ideas both old and new. He chose for her the 
finest and most advanced of colleges for 
women ; but it was for women only. He did 
not believe in “ mixed ” colleges. 

Of course this was a new experience to Jean. 
She had never lived with girls before. At 
first she imagined them all the “ loveliest and 
best.” When she was undeceived nothing but 
her sterling good sense, and the influence of a 
favorite teacher, saved her from bitterness. 
After a while she understood better, became a 
favorite, and graduated in four years at the 
head of her class. 

In the autumn following she went away with 
her father for a year of study through travel 
in the Old World. She brought home with 
her its Duomos and its Alps, its gondolas and 
cathedrals, as a part of her life furnishing. 

“For it is from what you store Avithin, 
daughter,” the judge had been Avont to say, 
“ that your life must have any real groAvth. 
If you store beauty there, and elevating 
thoughts, and then live in daily converse Avith 
them, they cannot help but mould your outer 
habits and appearance.” 

On their return they turned to the south of 


10 


JEAN'S OPPORTUNITY. 


our own land, and spent the winter among the 
sunny groves of Florida, or the wonderful val- 
leys of California, or searched among the ruins 
of Mexico, or wondered at the canons of the 
Sierras. 

And it was such a little time after their re- 
turn before he went away from her. She was 
so glad to-day that she had all these beautiful 
memories. The tears were almost falling, 
when she heard a voice in the hall inquiring 
for her, and brushing them away quickly, 
turned to meet her business lawyer. 

She had known Mr. Shearer all her life ; he 
had always been connected more or less with 
her father. And as long ago as when she had 
first returned from school her father had 
talked business to her. 

He had turned to her one evening when she 
was sitting in the cosy red chair and said, 
“ Daughter, it is fitting now that you should 
understand something of my provision for your 
future. I have always thought it best for you 
to know much of my business and have talked 
with you as I would with a son.” Then he 
went on to tell her of his will, its various pro- 
visions for things in which he was interested, 
the generous amount remaining to her, and 
that he had left all in her charge, and named 
Solon Shearer as her adviser and referee. 


WHAT HAS JEAN? 


11 


“I have known Shearer for fifty years,” he 
said, “ and I have never known him do a dis- 
honorable or underhanded act; a rare char- 
acter in these days. If I am ever taken from 
you, daughter, I trust his advice and counsel 
may be spared to you.” 

But she almost rebelled at this moment. 
“ Why could it not have been my father that 
was spared,” was her inner cry. 

It was a very spare, slight man that came 
toAvard her now with a bundle of law papers 
in his hand. People wondered sometimes how 
the skin stuck to the bones with no more in- 
tervening flesh. The scanty hair and Avhiskers 
were of an iron grey ; and the keen blue eyes 
looked out from projecting bushy broAvs of the 
same mixed hue; “pepper and salt hair” 
Jean had once merrily suggested to her father. 

“ A Avarm day, Mr. Shearer,” she remarked 
noAv. 

“Yes, good for corn. I have some business 
that seems to demand your immediate atten- 
tion, Miss Jean,” he Avent on ; he always bristled 
with points. “You knoAV of course that your 
father, the last year of his life, by purchase 
from the other parties concerned in the original 
purchase, became sole OAvner of the property 
knoAvn as the old ‘ Academy grant.’ ” 

“ I heard him speak of it, yes, sir.” 


12 


JEAN^S OPPORTUNITY. 


‘‘ He had long desired to acquire this,” went 
on the lawyer, “ though why, I am sure I can- 
not understand. Nothing could be more un- 
salable in the market.” 

“ My father held some things higher even 
than money,” the daughter said, lifting her 
head proudly. 

“Perhaps. He had some sentiment about 
this property ; went to school there in his boy- 
hood.” 

“ And his father before him,” interposed the 
girl, “ and his grandfather also.” 

“ Makes it of less value the further you go 
back,” the lawyer said, dryly. “ Now the busi- 
ness is this. I had feared the property would 
be a dead weight upon your hands : real estate 
in Williston is never booming; and of course 
unused property steadily deteriorates. The 
best I could hope for it was, to rent it for 
market purposes for enough to pay the taxes ; 
the buildings of course I counted as of no use.” 

“ Hoav much land is there in that property, 
Mr. Shearer?” 

“About three acres, perhaps a little more 
counting in the small orchard adjoining that 
your father took to satisfy the Eobbins’ mort- 
gage. I am happy to say. Miss Jean, that this 
is the only valueless piece of property your 
father left to you. And now I have received 


WHAT HAS JEANf 


13 


an offer for it that is the occasion of my pres- 
ent call.” 

“And the buildings, are they in good re- 
pair ? ” the girl went on irrelevantly. 

“ Fairly so : considering the length of time 
they have stood untenanted, I may say quite 
so.” 

“ Is there water there ? ” 

“An excellent well. I may say that has 
been one of the deciding factors in the mind 
of the purchasers, would-be purchasers, that is. 
A hygienic institute under two physicians, 
with nervous troubles a specialty.” 

“ Did you ever hear my father mention any 
intention in regard to that property, Mr. 
Shearer?” 

“Of course. Miss Jean, when the original 
party purchased it, it was with some philan- 
thropic idea, I believe. That was when times 
were better. Then Wilson lost in those Texas 
deals and your father relieved him of his share, 
and when Aleck Morse died and his widow 
was left pretty poorly off he did the same by 
her. He carried out his original intention if 
the others did not, I should say,” the lawyer 
added in his dryest tones. “ It is necessary,” 
he resumed, “ to give this immediate attention. 
They offer a fair price, though of course not its 
value, and I will appoint a meeting with them 


14 


JEAN^S OPPORTUNITY, 


here, at your convenience, to-morrow. It will 
take but a short time to arrange. Your 
father’s affairs are all plain and easily settled.” 

“ The deeds are clear then ? ” the girl asked. 

“ Perfectly. Never a flaw in your father’s 
papers. When will it suit you to see them, 
Miss Jean?” 

“ Not at all, Mr. Shearer. The place is not 
for sale.” 

The lawyer gazed at her aghast. “ I brought 
these papers that you might look them over,” 
he said, slowly, indicating the useless parcel 
in his hand, “ it will not take you long to un- 
derstand it all.” 

The girl smiled brightly. “ Poor Mr. 
Shearer, I have confounded you. But the 
place is not for sale, not to all the doctors in 
tlie country. I wish to keep it. I think my 
father would have wished me to do so. And 
there is no reason why I cannot, I suppose.” 

“ Of course. Miss Jean, the property is your 
own: but I cannot see such an opportunity 
for you pass by, without protest. I should 
consider myself false to the t^ust your father 
reposed in me otherwise.” 

“ That is all right, Mr. Shearer, and my 
father was right in trusting you,” with her 
most winning smile, “but all the same, no one 
but Jean Hallock is going to own that prop- 


WHAT HAS JEAN? 


15 


erty at present. Why, it may become my 
greatest treasure yet ; who knows ? ” 

‘‘ If that is your decision I may as well give 
them an answer then,” the lawyer said in his 
most non-committal manner. 

“ That is my very final answer,” the girl re- 
turned, and then looked after the retiring law- 
yer with a pitying smile. “ Poor Mr. Shearer, 
I pity him. The man who is so unfortunate 
as to have for a ward a headstrong girl, with 
both ideas and money, is a fit subject of com- 
miseration ; a warning to others not to ven- 
ture upon such a task.” 

As for Mr. Shearer himself, he must be par- 
doned if he had much the same feeling as he 
pursued his homeward way. 

“ Dulcie,” said he, that night when he and 
Mrs. Shearer were safe in the retirement of 
their own room, company having prevented an 
earlier expression, “Dulcie, if there is one 
thing beyond another that a woman ought 
never to have, it is money; the control of 
money, I mean.” 

People called this couple ‘‘the thin and the 
thick of it ; ” for Mrs. Shearer was as round 
and comfortable a little woman as her liege 
lord was spare and thin. She made one think 
of a motherly little hen fussing over her one 
chicken. “ Look at this girl now,” he went 


16 


JEAN^S OPPORTUNITY. 


on, with nearly ten thousand a year of in- 
come, and no more idea of spending it properly 
than any other young animal.” 

“What has Jean done now?” asked the 
little lady, calmly clearing her mouth of pins. 
She was* used to these tirades ; and, beside, her 
childless heart was very fond of the bright 
young girl who made a second home in the 
quiet house. 

“ Done ? Let me convince you of her fool- 
ishness ; ” and then he stated at length his 
day’s grievance, ending, — “ it is hard to a busi- 
ness man to see a chance like that lost. It 
may be ten years before another presents it- 
self. Times are hard ” 

“ It seems to me the times are always hard,” 
his spouse remarked, unbuttoning his collar, 
and in that remark echoing the thought of an 
untold number of women. 

“Well, they are,” lamely, “at all events, 
property is always slow and dull in Williston. 
She might sell that now, and invest the funds 
where it would be income and not outgo con- 
tinually, and that, Mrs. Shearer, is the only 
true philosophy of business. Why, Mrs. 
Shearer, how do you, how does any one, 
imagine, that that girl can go on, continually 
spending, without anything coming in ? ” 

The judge used to say that, “ Shearer had 


WHAT HAS JEANf 


17 


chosen wisely in being only a business lawyer ; 
he could never have made a plea in his life un- 
less his wife had been both judge and jury, 
arid the only one present.” 

“ I thought you said she had an income of 
nearly ten thousand,” calmly. 

“ Yes ; now ! But how long will she, if I 
do not look after it faithfully ? ” 

“You will do that, Solon,” with a glance 
that quieted much that was rampant in him. 
“ What idea has she about the old ‘ academy 
property ’ ? ” 

“ It does not amount to an idea ; notion, 
you mean.” 

“ Whatever you please.” 

“Don’t know, I am sure; some impossible 
thing, I suppose.” 

“ Don’t yoii remember,” Mrs. Shearer went 
on, “ when the judge with the others bought 
that, there was a great deal of talk about 
making it over into an old lady’s home, or 
hospital, or something of the sort ? ” 

“ Yes,” grunted her husband. 

“ I remember, you said it was a fine idea, 
and you hoped it would be carried out.” 

“ Well, men were at the head of that, and it 
might have amounted to something.” 

“ How gallant you are, dear.” 

“ My dear, I admire women ; in their place. 


18 


JEAN^S OPPORTUNITY. 


Nobody more so. It is only when they try to 
run business or politics, that I say they make 
sticks of themselves.” 

“ I remember Jean then,” the lady went on, 
accepting the half apology, “ and how enthusi- 
astic she was over the plan. She came here 
one afternoon and talked for at least two 
hours about it.” 

“ It does not take much to rouse girls’ en- 
thusiasms ; any tramp in rags can do that.” 

“Not our Jean,” with some spirit. “She 
has a deal of the judge’s hard common sense 
back of all her enthusiasms.” 

“ I hope so,” was her husband’s ungracious 
“ last word,” “ or she’ll make a guy of herself 
and all the judge left her, yet. It’s too much 
for a girl just twenty-three, to control. I in- 
sist upon that; and only hope time will not 
prove it,” in a tone strongly suggestive of little 
faith in “ time.” 


CHAPTER 11. 


THE OLD ACADEMY. 

Meanwhile, the girl who had too much 
property left to her own disposal,” was con- 
sidering the matter in a different light. 

The lawyer had scarcely gone from Jean’s 
sight, and not at all from her thought, when 
the rustle of sweeping skirts, and the laughing 
tones in the hall told of another caller. This 
was Ethel Hye, a lifelong playmate and friend 
living in another of the stately, old Hill homes. 
She made a decided contrast to the quiet figure 
in sombre robes as she seated herself beside 
Jean. 

To say the least, she was “striking” look- 
ing ; with her slender figure carried in all the 
grace of girlhood, her fair face and large blue 
eyes, and the crown of hair, termed “golden,” 
or “ slightly sandy,” according to the terms of 
intimacy and friendship one enjoyed with her. 
However, Ethel was a general favorite. She 
had a hearty, welcoming manner and smile 
that made brightness wherever she went. 

It was something like the way in which her 
dainty organdie gown swept over Jean’s black 

19 


20 


JEAN'S OPPORTUNITY. 


tissue now. The habit of lightening every- 
thing up. She did not like clouds and shad- 
ows : and her sunny life hitherto had always 
turned away from tears and trouble. “Tri- 
fling,” some said. Well, that is often said of 
girls who have their characters yet to form. 
One sometimes wonders where the earnest 
workers of the coming generation are to be 
found, to hear the conversation of the present 
woman. 

“Alone, are you, Jean?” was her greeting 
now. 

“Yes, since Mr. Shearer left me a few min- 
utes since.” 

“ Humph ! ” with a shrug, “ charming com- 
pany ! Should think even mine would be pref- 
erable. You received cards to-day, I see,” 
with a glance at the table where an envelope 
with an elaborate monogram and crest lay 
conspicuous. 

“Yes,” smiling quizzically toward her caller, 
“ do you know where Laura Matson found her 
‘ coat of arms ’ ? ” 

“ ‘ Ought to be a goose rampant,’ grandmama 
says,” the other returned with a merry laugh, 
“ to symbolize her tailor-grandfather. All the 
same, she does give swell entertainments, and 
this of this evening is to be especially elab- 
orate, as it is really Margie’s introductory 


THE OLD ACADE3IY. 


21 


‘ coming out.’ She will be fully in society this 
winter, you know.” 

“Yes, not eighteen yet. How much does 
she know ? ” 

“Her millionaire papa can buy brains for 
her, Jean.” 

“ He cannot attach them, however, Ethel, so 
that she will become their possessor. And it 
always seems sad to me, in these wonderful 
days of education, that a girl must lose them 
simply because she has too much money.” 

“True enough, Jean. But no school, how- 
ever chartered or endowed, could make stu- 
dents of all. Margie now, is a friendly, silly 
little thing, and will be to the end of the chap- 
ter. Just as easy for her perhaps, and she will 
give pleasure in her own way. Too bad you 
cannot go.” 

“ I am not regretting it, Ethel. When I am 
out of the swing, as I am now, I fancy I have no 
taste for it. But when I get back again I find 
myself fascinated like the rest.” 

“You always did have the most serious 
times, Jean, when you seemed to think the 
whole world was on your shoulders.” 

“And after all, a mere do nothing in the 
end ? Don’t add that, Ethel.” 

“ Oh, grandmama thinks you are a model, 
Jean. Says she expects great things of you 


22 


JEAN'S OPPORTUNITY, 


yet. So does your devoted admirer, Mrs. 
Shearer.” 

Jean started at the name, and glanced 
below the lawn where a man was busy among 
some garden-beds. 

“ Can you go and ride with me, Ethel ? ” she 
asked. 

“ When ? ISTow ? ” 

‘‘Yes.” 

“ Delighted to do so.” 

“ Mark,” called the young mistress, “ please 
put Dilly to the phaeton, and bring her 
around at once.” 

“ Yes, miss,” came the prompt answer, and 
in a few moments, Mark, a middle-aged, pleas- 
ant-faced man was holding the gentle bay at 
the steps leading from the piazza. 

The judge’s establishment had always been a 
simple one. Besides his cousin, who for many 
years acted as housekeeper, it had consisted 
of Mark, who served as coachman, hostler, or 
gardener, his wife, Einda, who was cook and 
laundress, and their orphan niece, a pleasant- 
faced girl rejoicing in the euphonious name of 
Arewytha, that had long been contracted into 
the brief title of Wittie. Mark and Einda had 
been with them for at least twenty years and 
there were few matters of the family in which 
they did not have their sympathy and pride. 


THE OLD ACADEMY. 


23 


“Mark,” said Jean, as she came down the 
steps now, “ do you know where the key of the 
old academy is ? I do not find it in the usual 
place.” 

“It has a tag upon it. Miss Jean, with a 
large A upon it ? ” 

“ Yes.” 

“ I saw Mr. Shearer taking such a one away 
yesterday. Miss Jean, when you were away 
doAvn town.” 

“ Oh, certainly. I might have remembered 
that he had been there, of course.” 

Ethel had sprung into the low phaeton, and 
Jean was snapping the last button of her driv- 
ing gloves before stepping in, when Mark 
stepped a little nearer. 

“If you please. Miss Jean, that makes me 
think. Mrs. Parsons was here too the same 
time, wanting to see you.” 

“And what did Mrs. Parsons want now, 
Mark ? The same old stor}^, I suppose.” 

“Of course,” with a grim smile. “He’s 
gone again, and she’s left to take care of the 
whole pack of youngsters alone ; and how will 
she do it ? for she’ll never take him back again 
now; never.” 

“ Poor thing ! There are seven children, are 
there not ? ” 

“ Seven ; and the oldest just past twelve ; 


24 


JEAN^S OPPORTUNITY. 


and the rent overdue two months ; and they’re 
picking berries the best they can. But the 
baby’s sick and all ; I promised her, Miss Jean, 
or I wouldn’t be bothering you. And the 
bright girl Philena Dean was once, and might 
have had her pick and not took up with that 
shiftless Abel Parsons.” 

“ That’s all right, Mark. I must try to go 
and see her before I come back. I saw two or 
three plantains coming up on the further edge 
of the lawn yesterday, Mark. Move on, Dilly 
girl.” 

“ Poor woman ! ” Jean went on as they 
turned out of the grounds, “it is dreadful, 
Ethel, what women have to endure some- 
times.” 

“Mrs. Parsons seems to have a good advo- 
cate in Mark,” Ethel responded. 

“Yes,” and being now fairly on the street 
Jean laughed softly ; “ Mark has a soft place 
for the former Philena Dean in his heart. I 
am afraid that Cupid once shot some darts 
from her bright eyes toward him, and Kin da’s 
beauty would never dispel the illusion,” and 
both laughed again at the mental vision of the 
good cook’s portly form and broad face. 

The little carriage rolled smoothly along 
down the wide, sloping street. The immense 
elms on either side, of which Williston was so 


THE OLD ACADEMY. 


25 


justly pi'oud, at times nearly interlaced their 
drooping branches above them. The girls met 
other carriages, from which bright faces nod- 
ded and smiled to them. 

At one place a house was set far back from 
the street, and on its deep lawn a group of 
children in their light frocks and gay ribbons, 
were making the air ring with their merry 
shouts. 

“ What good times children do have ! ” said 
Ethel. 

“ Some of them, you mean,” rejoined her 
companion, quickly, “ you forget Mrs. Parsons 
and her clan.” 

Ethel shrugged her shoulders. “ What’s the 
use of remembering what it is pleasanter to 
forget ? Besides one cannot do anything for 
them.” 

“ Why not ? ” quickly. 

“Because there are so many of them. 
Where in the world would one begin ? ” 

“With Mrs. Parsons, I suppose. Any- 
way ” — but her companion interrupted. 

“ Oh, stop Dilly a minute, please, Jean, 
there’s Max Levison, he wants to speak to 
us. I did not know he was at home again.” 

Dilly was drawn up promptly, and a young 
gentleman, most faultlessly attired and with 
the finest of patent tips and the latest of ties, 


26 


JEAN^S OPPORTUNITY. 


holding his hat and cane at the approved an- 
gle came up to them. 

‘‘Home for the summer? When did you 
come ? ” asked Ethel. 

“ Last night only. Ho, I am invited out for 
August, on Merrill’s yacht.” 

“ Through with 3^our studies in Berlin, Mr. 
Levison ? ” from Jean. 

“Ho, not until March. Over again in Sep- 
tember. You have met with a sad loss. Miss 
Hallock, since I met you on the other side,” 
with a glance at her sombre dress. 

“Yes,” choking back a sob quickly; how 
near her father seemed to her to-day. “ What 
a pleasant stay we had in Berlin. And father 
enjoyed your calls. He said it seemed so 
good in that land of gutturals, to hear you 
and the cat speak in English,” and they all 
laughed. 

“ Miss Hallock seems to be mourning for her 
father about as long as one could expect, in 
spite of her crape,” one of two elderly ladies 
who passed in a heavy carriage just then, re- 
marked ; “ young folks have something else to 
do nowadays than to be crying for their 
elders.” 

“ Yes,” sighed her companion, “money and 
good times is all they care for.” 

“Dear papa!” Jean was just then saying. 


THE OLD ACADEMY. 


27 


“I am so thankful that we had that long, 
pleasant year together.” 

The young man looked at her with frank, 
pleasant eyes. “ So am I, Miss Hallock,” he 
said. “I don’t mind telling you now, but I 
was getting a little, just a little, fast you 
know, before you came. It’s so easy, you 
know, for a fellow over there. J^othing 
really to disgrace that dear little woman 
whom I left behind me, who has had so 
much faith in me ever since I was in my 
cradle, but I wasn’t picking my company 
quite carefully enough just then. And then 
the judge came, with his strong, grand ideas of 
things and of standing up to them, and some- 
way they braced one up just to hear them. 
Gave a kind of backbone you see, and I 
dropped that set, and picked another, and 
studied better. That’s my debt to his mem- 
ory you see,” with a graceful bow. But the 
daughter’s eyes were too full to see that. 

“And how is Cousin Bernice this morn- 
ing ? ” asked Ethel. 

“ As bright as could be after the return of 
her only son,” was the answer. “ And that 
reminds me that I promised not to tarry too 
long away, no matter what attractions tempted 
me,” and turning slightly he waved his adieus 
as the carriage moved on. 


28 


JEAN^S OPPORTUNITY. 


“ I believe Max is going to turn out some- 
thing after all,” Ethel remarked. 

‘‘ I hope so for his mother’s sake if not his 
own,” Jean returned. 

“ Yes, I believe Cousin Bernice would fade 
away quickly at any ill to Max. But, Jean,” 
Ethel went on, earnestly, “ she just lies in that 
reclining chair and prays for him. He ought 
to be safe. Maybe that was how your father 
was sent there just then.” 

“ Perhaps. You know we did not intend 
to stay any in Berlin, but my illness with that 
low fever made it necessary. And Max was 
very kind to father. He found us a good 
home-place, and took father out a number of 
times. Hear father ! ” 

“ And Cousin Bernice is just too lovely for 
anything. I never knew any one so good. 
Her prayers ought to be heard if any one’s.” 

By this time Hilly knew in her own mind 
their destination, and had turned in at an 
open gate that gave entrance to the side-door 
of a wide, rambling house, the home of Mrs. 
Shearer. That lady herself was seated on the 
side porch busy in some household repairs. 
“ The key of the academy ? ” she said in an- 
swer to Jean’s question. “Well, I saw Mr. 
Shearer lay a key on top of his desk ; I’ll go 
and see,” and the comfortable little lady dis- 


TEE OLD ACADEMY. 


29 


appeared in at the door. She came back soon 
with the key : “ I am so glad, dear, that you 
own the old academy property,” she said, 
reaching it out to Jeau. “It would be just 
dreadful to think of that old town heirloom, 
as it were, going into the hands of strangers. 
Now we know it’s safe.” From which speech 
Jean understood perfectly that the little lady 
did not approve of her husband’s business 
“ ideas,” and had expressed the same as well 
as she could in Ethel’s presence. 

Back again through the wide avenue they 
made their way to its upper part and there 
turned off into a short side street. After a 
slight dip and a gradual slope beyond, this 
street turned at a sharp angle to the left. But 
the girls did not follow its bend. Straight be- 
fore them, rose a broad, steep, gravel walk 
bordered with noble trees. At a longer dis- 
tance curved the driveway up which Dilly 
toiled bravely bringing them out at the head 
of the walk, and before the central entrance 
door of the long “ Old Academy ” building. 

Catching Billy’s bits with a chain, the girls 
ran up the long steps and fitted the large key 
into the lock. It turned with a hollow, grat- 
ing sound, “ The protest of the ghosts of ages,” 
Ethel declared. 

But there were no “ ghosts ” of any kind to 


30 


JEAN'S OPPORTUNITY, 


greet them, in the wide, long hall upon which 
they entered. Only the dust of ages, as it 
seemed. Eeally, it was of much later gather- 
ing. 

They glanced into the large recitation-rooms 
at the left hand, but turned for a longer tarry 
into the chapel door at the right. This hall 
occupied the entire end of this floor. There 
were windows upon three sides, and the after- 
noon sunlight lay in long lines across the desks 
and floor of the further side. Here, a short 
time since, had been held a summer school for 
teachers, of two weeks, and something of its 
paper litter still remained. 

Ethel stepped upon the low platform where 
stood the reading desk and assuming a tragic 
attitude, began in hollow tones a speech. 

“ Friends and fellow citizens, for I am speak- 
ing in the future tense, Jean, when we shall all 
be citizens and voters, I come as a shade from 
the past, to bring to you memories. What we 
dreamed, you are : what we hoped, you realize : 
Jean, I wonder if that is so ? Ho you suppose 
we are any wiser or better than those shades 
of the past which I have evoked ? ” 

“Hot a bit,” Jean returned, promptly. 
“Ethel, I cannot help but feel sadly here. 
Think of it ! At this very desk,” touching 
lightly the one by which she stood, “ how many 


THE OLD ACADEMY. 


31 


experiences have been lived. My father him- 
self may have sat here, or the mother whom I 
scarcely remember. They worked, and hoped, 
and longed, just as we do to-day. If these 
desks could speak how many tales they might 
unfold.” 

Ethel had come down and was standing be- 
side her now. 

“ You are making me feel uncanny, Jean. I 
would rather remember the sly, little love 
notes that have been slipped along behind 
them, or the glances that no preceptor from 
yonder desk could intercept, that have shot 
above. Let us make a love song of life, 
Jean.” 

“Well, in one sense I would like to, Ethel, 
the broader love that is charity.” 

“ Heigh-ho ! What a charming dancing hall 
this would make if the desks were only out,” 
and Ethel waltzed around to her own hum- 
ming. 

Jean had thrown open a window at the 
front and was looking out. The village streets 
on a lower level, the wide valley with its 
glimpses of spire or towering chimney; be- 
yond, the long sweep of mountains. “ Oh, the 
eternal hills,” she exclaimed, “ what a breadth 
and strength they give to life, Ethel.” 

“Yes, I believe that,” her companion said 


32 


JEAN'S OPPORTUNITY, 


coming to her side, “ Avhen I am in the West I 
feel that I miss something. To look out over 
a billowy prairie, far as the eye can reach, is 
fine, but not uplifting.” 

‘‘I know,” said Jean, “it makes one feel 
small, but there is not hope in it, as there is in 
a mountain view. You are not pointed higher, 
as it were. The mountains speak of heaven.” 

“What a lofty idea, Jean.” 

“Well, the mountains themselves suggest 
such. Let’s go upstairs, Ethel.” 

Upstairs they found a long hall lined on 
each side with small rooms. It was many 
years now since these had been used, and the 
prevailing ideas here were dust and bareness. 
Sometimes there was an old bedstead left, 
sometimes a chair or two, or a stand or old- 
fashioned bureau, but there were few articles 
worth the carrying away. The girls ran from 
one to another, peeping into closets, opening 
rickety drawers, exclaiming at the grand views 
the uncurtained windows gave above the tree- 
tops, or taking a hasty glance into the gloom 
and darkness of the attic. Finally the echo of 
their voices was lost to the upper regions and 
came in muffled tones from the basement. 

Here they investigated with the instinctive 
housekeeping delight born in nearly every fem- 
inine heart. A dining-room occupied nearly 


THE OLD ACADEMY. 


33 


the entire length of the chapel, with stairway 
and pantries at its side. Across the end was 
the kitchen with more modern range built in ; 
long sinks whose disused pumps croaked hoarsely 
but gave no signs of water; unexpected 
cupboards that called forth exclamations of 
delight ; suggestions of moulding boards in the 
swing shelves that spoke of toothsome dain- 
ties, the concocting of which is a woman’s de- 
light; low window seats beside which one 
might dream while the hands were busy. 

“ I declare, this is dreadful ! ” Ethel had dis- 
covered, “just the dearest,” old-fashioned cor- 
ner cupboard, and was exclaiming over its deep 
shelves. “ To think of such a ‘ cosey corner ’ 
as this being in existence, and no use for it. 
Imagine the good times some one is losing in 
the world.” 

“That reminds me,” returned Jean, “of a 
lovely flower papa and I found blooming in a 
very lonely place in one of the Alp valleys. 
And papa and I wondered if we had not seen 
it, if its beauty would have been lost. And it 
made us glad, that we might believe that there 
was beauty everywhere, even though it might 
not be seen. It made the world seem a richer 
place.” 

“ From a kitchen to the Alps ! What a 
transition ! ” and Ethel closed the door with a 


34 


JEAN'S OPPORTUNITY. 


sigh. ‘‘ There’s one thing, Jean, if one carries 
a rich mind one always has her treasures with 
her wherever she is. You are teaching me 
that. I am going home to study my ‘Works 
of Great Painters.’ Next time I go into the 
kitchen to ‘ toss up a pudding,’ or make jam, it 
shall suggest to me some scene from Eaphael, 
or one of Carlo Dolce’s heads. Do you see ? ” 

They went up the stairs again laughing with 
girlhood’s lightness. 

“ I want to see about how many rooms there 
are up here,” Jean said. “About fifteen or 
sixteen ; I thought so.” 

“ Going to open a hotel or a summer board- 
ing-house ? ” inquired Ethel. 

“ Perhaps, of some kind ; ” and they came 
again to the large entrance door. Dilly whin- 
nied a welcome, the large key turned gratingly 
in the lock. 

The girls stepped into the phaeton and drove 
around the south end of the long building. 
There, back a little, stood a square dwelling- 
house that had been the home of the princi- 
pal in the academy’s palmy days. 

“ This does not seem to be as well preserved 
as the other,” Ethel remarked. 

“No, I heard papa say it needed new sills, 
and I must see that it has a fresh coat of 
paint. It is decidedW shabby -looking. But it 


THE OLD ACADEMY. 


35 


is older even than the other I have heard papa 
say.” 

They curved around the steep drive, grassy 
and water washed now, to the street again. 

“ Where now ? ” asked Ethel. 

“Time for the deserted Mrs. Parsons, is 
there not ? ” 

“ By all means. First a deserted building, 
then a woman also a failure and a disappoint- 
ment. Jean, I think it will be a foil to Mrs. 
Matson’s brilliant entertainment of the even- 
ing. Let us go.” 

And they turned down through the street, 
gay now with its afternoon seekers for pleas- 
ure, on down the more crowded avenues of 
Lower Town, through the narrower streets 
where the hum of machinery and the smell of 
heated wools came through the open windows, 
till they found their destination quite beyond 
the town. 

It was here that Ethel could find her foil for 
the evening’s brilliant promise. 


CHAPTER III. 


BYWAYS. 

The road, for it no longer possessed the 
character of a “ street,” into which our dainty 
young ladies with their shining carriage and 
well-groomed Hilly, had come, was one that 
wound off in continual curves, around the foot 
hills of the steeper heights beyond. Some- 
times it was bush-lined, sometimes it opened 
out into sunny glades of scattered trees, or 
rocky fields of corn, or a garden outlined in 
stumps. 

The small, slab house before which they 
halted, a mile beyond the town, had not a sin- 
gle relieving point to the eye, unless it might 
be the row of sunflowers on either side of the 
single boardwalk that led to the door. It 
stood on a shelving bank, a few yards above 
the road, with its open door and single front 
window. These might have been two bare, 
blank spaces had it not been for the children’s 
tow heads that lined them. Back of the house 
rose a steep, wooded hill, and at the side, a 
thicket of weeds and potato tops, from which 
36 


BYWAYS. 


37 


a light-haired, freckle-faced boy lifted himself 
and gazed at them steadily. 

“Is your mother at home, Jaky?” asked 
Jean. 

“ Ya’as’m, she be.” 

“ Will you come and hold my horse while I 
speak with her ? ” 

“ Ya’as’m, I will,” and Jaky came forward 
in a slow, deliberate manner, giving a hitch 
to his single suspender on the way. 

“ Why don’t you hurry up, Jaky ? ” came in 
a woman’s sharp, worried tones from the win- 
dow, where a frousled head now appeared 
above the others. “You do be the slowest 
moving thing I ever did see.” 

The bo}^ added no wings to his lagging feet, 
but calmly marched to Dilly’s head and took 
the bridle in hand ; giving, as Jean noticed, 
and to her satisfaction, a loving pat to the 
pretty head as he did so. Then he turned his 
frank, blue eye toward her. 

“ There’s a trough of water just beyond 
here, isn’t there, Jaky ?” asked Jean. 

“ Ya’as’m, there be.” 

“I wish you would lead Dilly there, and 
uncheck her, and let her drink. Not too 
much, for she is warm; just a little. Ethel, 
will you get out, or stay in ? ” 

“ Out,” Ethel said, suiting the action to the 


38 


JEAN'S OPPORTUNITY. 


word. “ I saw some gorgeous golden-rod just 
back a little ; the first I have seen. I am go- 
ing for it.” 

“ All right,” and Jean climbed the steep 
path to the door. Mrs. Parsons met her there, 
“ children to right of her, children to left of 
her,” as Jean described afterward. 

“ How is the sick baby ? ” she asked now, 
stepping in through the passage way the 
mother made by sweeping her arms among the 
children and scattering them back like sheep. 
“ There’s three that don’t belong,” she apolo- 
gized, “ but their ma’s gone a berrying, and 
she has a drefful time getting along anyway,” 
and she finished by dusting a wooden chair 
with the skirt of her soiled gown, and placing 
it down hard on the bare floor, invited her 
caller to “ set down, do. Won’t she come in ? ” 
she asked, hospitably, indicating Ethel’s direc- 
tion with another sweep of her long arm. 

“ My friend saAV some flowers she wished to 
gather,” was Jean’s answer. 

“Did? I don’t see where. Nothin’ but 
weeds round here. Children, perhaps she 
would like some of you to help her.” 

The hint was sufficient. With a rush, and a 
whoop or two, the room was nearly cleared, 
leaving, “ chance for better air,” as Jean 
thought. 


BYWAYS. 


39 


Giving a chance too for her to see the 
rickety wooden cradle near, and the puny, 
sick baby in it. 

There was no need to ask then how it was ; 
the tiny, pale face, the tossing arms and 
moaning lips spoke only too plainly. 

“ Poor little thing ! ” and a wave of com- 
passion swept over Jean’s heart. “Oh, it is so 
small to suffer so.” 

“ That’s what I say,” and the mother’s sharp 
tones softened, and two tears rolled down her 
thin cheeks as she bent over the other side of 
the cradle. “ I says, if ’twas only myself now, 
or some of the young ones as could talk ; but 
this poor, little man, he hain’t never done a 
bad thing in his life to be paid off like this.” 

“ AVhat have you given him?” asked Jean, 
waving theology for the present. 

“ Well, I did have a bottle of soothing syrup, 
that’s a wonderful thing for quietin’, and I 
kept him quiet long’s that lasted; but it 
seem’s though he was worse than ever since 
’twas gone.” 

Jean shivered ; she had her ideas of soothing 
syrup. 

“ Have you had a doctor ? ” 

“ Ho, Miss Hallock, I spent the last cent I 
had on the soothin’. I was going to tell Jaky 
he must go and pick berries soon’s he’d bugged 


40 


JEAN^S OPPORTUNITY. 


the potatoes. He just got through last night 
bugging ’em for Mr. Sykes’s. But he don’t 
get nothin’ for that, cos Mr. Sykes, he owns 
this house and garden, and it all had to go on 
the rent. Seems as though Mr. Sykes might 
have waited a Avhile ; leaky old shanty, any- 
way. He's said for a year and more, we 
shouldn’t stay here ; we’d move into town and 
have things decent. But it don’t look like it 
now. He’s lighted out, for good and all I 
hope,” with strong indignation in her tone. 

“Has he really left you, Mrs. Parsons? 
Mark said he had.” 

“Well, I hope so. Dear knows, I’m a sight 
better ofl^’thout him. And to think o’ what 
might have been,” with a sigh and fresh tears. 
“ Dear knows, I hope I’ll never sot eyes on 
him again,” she added, drying the tears. 

Jean looked around. She wondered what 
any man could wish to stay there for : it cer- 
tainly seemed as though the small room, and 
the adjacent sleeping-room held all the dirt 
and disorder their narrow limits admitted. 

“ You must have the doctor, Mrs. Parsons,” 
she said, turning again to the cradle. “ This 
child is very ill. I will send him ; or, if he 
cannot come he must send medicine. Tell me 
just how he is, please.” 

And while the mother garrulously went back 


BYWAYS, 


41 


to the beginning and the minutest details of 
the illness, Jean slowly moved her fan over the 
little one’s face, until the restless eyes were 
quieted, the sobbing moan stilled, and the baby 
was really sleeping. 

“ It’s the first time he’s been asleep since I 
got out of the syrup,” the mother whispered. 

“It is so hot here, and close,” from Jean, 
“ how can you expect him to sleep ? He ought 
to be fanned all the time; and not have so 
many children in here either.” 

“ I’ll fan him if you say so, all the time,” 
came from a voice behind her, and Jean turned 
to confront Jaky. “ She come back and said 
I could tie her to the fence, she’d be all right,” 
he explained, mixing the subjects of his femi- 
nine pronouns somewhat. 

“ Jaky sets a sight by the baby,” the mother 
explained. “ You see, he’s the only boy beside 
him ; the five between ’em are girls.” 

The baby was rousing again to its weary 
toss and moan. 

“ How long since you have taken him up ? ” 
asked Jean. 

“ Oh, not since noon ; I thought he was bet- 
ter quiet,” the mother explained. 

“Yes, but he must be very tired of that 
same position. Here, let me have that cooler 
pillow in my lap, and place him on that while 


42 


JEAN^S OPPORTUNITY. 


you shake up those hot things he has been 
lying on, and cool them off. Why, they are 
wet with perspiration ! ’’ she exclaimed, as the 
mother carefully lifted the tiny form. “Do 
put them out of doors, and pull off the cases 
and dry them. There! See, he enjoys the 
change,” as she turned the little one on its 
side, and the fretful moan ceased again. “Now, 
I believe he would enjoy having his face and 
head bathed in warm water,” Jean went on. 

“I haven’t dast to wash him for fear he 
would take cold,” said the mother, “ but there’s 
some warm water left in the kettle, if you say 
so.” 

“It will not hurt him,” returned Jean. 
“ When I was sick and feverish, nothing rested 
me like the bathing. Have you a soft cloth ? ” 
for by this time Jaky, in his own calm but 
sure way, had placed a battered tin dish of 
warm water beside her. “ Oh, that is too 
heavy,” as Mrs. Parsons drew from a drawer a 
large wash cloth, knit from the coarsest of 
cotton yarn. It was evidently a choice thing 
in the owner’s eyes. “ I knit it myself,” she 
said, holding it out with pride, “ like one I see 
down to the Cheshire Fair ; and it’s never been 
used ; not once.” 

“ It is nice, but too large for baby. Here, 
my handkerchief is perfectly clean, I will use 


BYWAYS. 


43 


that,’^ and she drew out the bit of fine linen, 
and dipping in the water that Jaky held, 
moved gently over the little, heated face and 
neck, moistening the dry ears and the parched 
lips, and the burning hands and arms, then 
over the round head, until the light, silky curls 
covered it like a silver crown. 

‘‘ O, miss, he most laughed ; he’s that glad,” 
Jaky said once. 

“ Perhaps that is enough now,” Jean said, 
presently. “ What is his name ? ” she asked, 
stroking the curls softly. 

“Max. I see it in my reading book. I 
named him,” from Jaky. 

“Yes, Jaky would have just that short bit. 
I wanted him Levi Ebenezer, after his two 
grandfathers,” said Mrs. Parsons. 

Jean stooped over the tiny face and kissed 
it. Perhaps it was to hide a smile ; perhaps, 
because she really could not help it ; it was 
such a dear, sweet little face in its pitiful weak- 
ness, now that it was clean and fresh. 

“ I must go now,” she said, lifting herself, 
“ and, Mrs. Parsons, do try and keep the chil- 
dren out of doors. It will be so much better 
for the baby.” 

“ I will if I can,” the mother ansAvered, lift- 
ing the pillow, and clasping it, Avith its small 
burden close to her heart. “ I never had one 


44 


JEAN'S OPPORTUNITY. 


of ’em so sick before, and I s’pose I don’t know 
just how to tend it ; the others have been 
tough, as he is ; this is more like me. I know 
Avhat ’tis to feel bad, times enough, myself. 
Yes, mother does, little man ; but ’t would just 
break her heart if anything happened to him ; 
so ’t would,” and Jean looked at the worn, hol- 
low-eyed face opposite with a new thought, 
and a new respect : the respect we give to suf- 
fering wherever we find it. 

Perhaps it had never occurred to Jean be- 
fore that this woman, because poor, and not 
expecting anything out of life, could yet feel 
its bitterness and long for something bet- 
ter. 

“ ’T would a’most break my heart,” the mother 
went on, “ if anything should hurt Max. He’s 
been the very happiest baby we ever had; 
alius a laughing and a cooing. Hain’t he, 
Jaky? You don’t think he’s so drefful sick, 
do you, Miss Hallock ? Mrs. Carr’s baby was 
that sick last year they watched all night to 
see him die. But he didn’t ; he got well. Max 
ain’t so sick as that baby ; is he, J aky ? ” 

A new dread that had scarcely been defined 
before was chilling the mother’s heart. And 
Jean had wondered a while before if the mother 
would care. 

“I will go, and send the doctor at once,” 


BYWAYS. 


45 


she said now, “ only, some one must go with 
me, to bring back medicine, if he cannot come 
at once.” 

“I will go,” Jaky said, quietly. 

There were a few more words spoken and 
then Jean went out the door. Ethel was sit- 
ting in the carriage in a bower of golden-rod. 
It flushed the atmosphere with its brilliant 
coloring. Dilly was nibbling at the bushes; 
but down beside the road Jaky stood in the 
centre of a small group, who were giving the 
closest attention to his words. 

“ And ef I hear of a fellow goin’ in there 
while I’m gone, ’less ma calls you. I’ll whack 
you all round when I gets back,” Jean over- 
heard him say, and smiled to herself. 

“Will you sit in the bottom of the carriage 
till we get into town ? ” she asked. 

“ I^o’m.” 

“ But you cannot keep up Avith us on foot.” 

“ Ya’as’m, I can.” 

They drove back, now sloAvly, now faster, 
but at Avhatever pace, if they looked back fre- 
quently, they were sure to see a barefoot, 
ragged boy, just at a respectful distance, at- 
tending them. 

“Jaky’s feet are more nimble than his 
tongue,” Ethel remarked once, “ I did not sup- 
pose he could do so well.” 


46 


JEAN^S OPPORTUNITY. 


“’Tis love that is spurring him on,” Jean 
answered ; “ he is very fond of that baby.” 

“Strange! You would almost think it 
would be a relief to lose it. I do not mean 
that unkindly, Jean, but there are so many of 
them, and so little to do with, and a miserable, 
good-for-nothing father.” 

“Yes, but your sister Lucile, Ethel, couldn’t 
clasp her little Marjorie more passionately at 
the fear of losing her, than that woman did 
her baby to-day. She had not seemed to real- 
ize that it was very sick before.” 

“Poor thing! It must be nice to have 
plenty of five dollar bills to pass out, as you 
can, Jean. As you know, they are not so 
plentiful in the Nye mansion.” 

“Yes, I am glad. I can send her a doctor, 
and some things she needs ; but, after all, there 
may be gifts quite as good.” But Jean did 
not tell of that newer ministry of the water, 
and the pillows. There was a feeling that was 
new in her heart: as though she had entered 
into a sacred service ; she could not speak of 
that. “What did you do while I was in?” 
she asked. 

Ethel laughed. “ I gathered my ‘ weeds,’ as 
they called them, attended by the entire Par^ 
sons’ troop that you rejected. Then I sat on 
a rock, not too near them, you know, and told 


BYWAYS, 


47 


them stories. And, I declare, Jean, I didn’t 
see but they enjoyed them as well as Lucile’s 
flock do, and they asked just as cute questions. 
But, Jean, I couldn’t touch them. They were 
not quite enticing enough for that.” 

Good Doctor Lambeth was at his door and 
came to the carriage with a cordial greeting. 
He had been the physician in both of their 
homes ever since they could remember. 

“ Hum, ha ! A new patient ; sick baby ; in 
that Parsons’ shanty. Had I better try to 
keep it alive. Miss Jean ? ” 

“ Of course. You will do your best, I know. 
Don’t let Jaky hear you,” with a glance back. 

“ Ah ! looks like one of the tribe. Want 
another one to grow up on the same pattern, 
do you ? ” 

“Ho, sir, I want an improvement,” Jean re- 
torted so promptly that the doctor smiled, but 
went on — 

“Now, Miss Jean, we believe in heaven, and 
that it is a better place than this, free from 
suffering, and from sin. Now, why mourn if 
this little one, who has never known the sin, 
slips away from its contaminating surround- 
ings, into that purity and happiness ? ” 

Jean settled herself quietly back in the cor- 
ner of the seat. “ Well, doctor,” she said, 
“ first of all, there is the mother.” 


48 


JEAN'S OPPORTUNITY. 


“ Better off without it,” from the doctor. 

“ Perhaps so, as to ease, but her heart does 
not say so. Why, doctor, one of its smiles 
now would repay her for nights of watch- 
ing.” 

“ And then,” the doctor went on, “ who can 
tell what it may grow up to ? Our prisons are 
full of men, once smiling, curly-haired babies, 
whose mothers doted on them.” 

“Yes,” Jean returned, thoughtfully, “per- 
haps the rest of society has not done its duty 
toward them.” 

“ What ! You would have children grow up 
into criminals, for the purpose of disciplining 
the rest of society, as you express it, into their 
duty.” 

“No, sir,” Jean returned,” but I would have 
you go out and do your best to give Mrs. Par- 
sons’ baby health, and then trust the rest.” 

The doctor laughed heartily. “Ah, Miss 
Jean ! argue with a woman the best that you 
can : and she will be sure to slip around all 
your premises, and so appeal to one’s feelings, 
that soft-hearted old fellows like myself can 
never resist. So I must do my best to cure 
that poor little midge, and I will promise you. 
Miss Jean, to do it.” 

“ I never doubted that, sir. I was only wait- 
ing for you to offer to take it to your own 


BYWAYS. 


49 


home for tenderer care,” Jean retorted. “ And 
can you go at once ? ” 

“As soon as I call on the rich Mrs. Yan 
Dyne who had hysterics yesterday. Here, 
you boy,” calling to Jaky, “ you can get in and 
ride back with me.” 

“ I want to send something by Jaky, doctor.” 

“ From where ?” 

“ Weeden’s store.” 

“ I will call and get your package.” 

“ All right, sir,” and the girls drove on. 

It was a generous package ; large enough to 
hide the bareness of Jaky’s ankles, that awaited 
them. Jean had pleased herself in selecting 
pretty, but useful things. She had too much 
of the judge’s practical nature not to do that. 

“ There’s clean bedding in there for it, and 
do tell her she must use it,” Jean said in an- 
swer to the doctor’s look. 

“ Yes, yes, I can be nurse as well as physician 
if necessary. How, if you will step into the 
drug store and order me one or tAvo foods 
and such things, so that no time may be lost if 
it needs nourishment. And tell them it is for 
my bill,” at Avhich Jean smiled. “ Hoav, good- 
day, ladies,” and with a quick touch to his hat 
the doctor Avas off. 

“That means, to stay as long as he is 
needed,” Ethel remarked as they too turned 


50 


JEAN'S OPPORTUNITY. 


away. “ When he leaves Mike at home and 
drives for himself, it means unlimited stay.” ^ 

“Yes, it will be like him to stay all night. 
He has done that at the poorhouse more than 
once.” 

Then Ethel glanced at her watch. “ I shall 
have to ask you, Jean, to hasten Billy’s pace. 
It is a lawn party you know, to-night, and be- 
gins at sundown ; and his majesty will soon dip 
behind the western hills. Kitty has a new 
gown for the occasion ; made in Kew York.” 

And after that the subject of Mrs. Parsons’ 
family was laid aside. 

The sun went down in a blaze of glory that 
night, and the soft afterglow of the summer 
twilight lingered long, flushing the long range 
of “eternal hills” with rose, that faded into 
violet, then deepened to amethyst, and then to 
tints of royal purple. The lights of the valley 
flashed and sparkled, half hidden by the full- 
leaved trees. 

One watcher, sitting on the wide piazza of 
the old Ilallock home wondered how she could 
take all this beauty in. It fllled her soul with 
awe. “There must come some time when I 
shall be better able to comprehend it,” she 
thought. 

Jean had come out after the evening meal a 
little restless and discontented. She was only 


BYWAYS. 


51 


a girl still ; a womanly girl, but one for whom 
life, until so very recently, had seemed to offer 
only pleasure. Even her duties, that had come 
as a daughter, and student, had been her 
highest pleasures. 

She had loved her father too well, and his 
passing away was too recent for her to really 
wish for gay scenes. And yet, in this waiting 
she was lonely as never before. As she sat in 
a low chair, with arms leaning upon the rail- 
ing, and eyes trying to take in the beauty, 
there would come to her ear the softened 
strains of music from Mrs. Matson’s gathering, 
and she could fancy the festivity of the hour ; 
the gayly trimmed and lighted house and 
grounds, the floating dresses, the merry voices 
and bright eyes. 

How often, and how thoughtlessly, as 
though it had been what she was made for, 
she had taken a part in such scenes. 

And now, it could never be the same again ; 
not just the same; and youth turns aside so 
naturally from any burial, even those of its 
dreams. 

She might be a part of such again, in time ; 
might And her old place among the lights and 
the flowers ; but there must be a change in it. 

When she came home from it all, there 
would be no father waiting in his library 


52 


JEAN'S OPPORTUNITY. 


chair with a smiling welcome. No voice would 
say, “ Did you have a pleasant evening, daugh- 
ter ? ” No one who loved her first of all would 
be waiting for the good-night kiss. Oh, how 
could she ever enjoy any pleasure again. 

The lights in the valley grew dim. Lower 
and lower sunk the head of the watcher upon 
her arms ; while sobs shook the slight figure in 
its brief tempest of longing. Then the sobs 
were quieted, as thoughts of love quiet any 
heart. 

Presently she lifted her head, just as a full 
moon, 

A ribbon at a time,” 

rolled itself, slowly and grandly, into view 
above the mountain-tops ; giving its silver for 
the lost violet, and striking into wondrous 
beauty the expanse of hill and vale. In its 
light the trees stretched out their wide arms 
and their leaves hung motionless ; the beds of 
white flowers stood up as white ghosts; the 
distant stream shone as a silver thread. 

Oh, the wonder of it all ! Probably we shall 
never understand, in this life, how a true dis- 
ciple of nature wins lessons of hope and 
strength. It crept into the girl’s sad heart and 
took possession of it. It comforted and cheered 
as nature does. It told her there was still 
left beauty, and goodness and work. 


BYWAYS. 


53 


Her eye sought the little mountain hollow 
where the small Parsons’ home was nestling. 
She knew the moon was just as lavish of its 
favors there as here. She wondered how the 
tiny sufferer there was faring. She remem- 
bered how the mother’s eye had brightened 
when she had promised to send the doctor. 

After all, what would be her father’s word 
could it sound back to-night? Would it not 
be, “ My child, live joyfully, bravely, and for 
others ” ? 

Again the head dropped. Yes, life could 
never again be as selfish or thoughtless as be- 
fore. She would live more for others’ needs. 
Let the moonlight seal her resolve upon the 
fair young face. 

Then the thoughts of the day grew. She 
had looked over the academy building, that 
“useless piece of property,” with a dawning 
idea of making it of some use, and so carrying 
out an intention of her father’s. 

How, after the experience of the afternoon, 
she was more firmly fixed in her resolve. 

She had not given a hint of it to Ethel. But 
she must talk with some one. Youth’s privi- 
lege is to share its thought. 

All at once, Cousin Wealthy came into her 
mind. 


CHAPTEE ly. 


WEALTHY TOKREY. 

“There is Wealthy;” then a little pause 
and the judge added, “ And Jean, it may be I 
have a duty toward her of which I have never 
spoken to you. It has occurred to me of late 
years that my feeling toward her may not 
have been fully just, and such as your mother 
would have wished me to cherish.” 

Jean raised her eyes expectantly. These 
were unusual words for her father. 

The two were sitting alone, two years before 
this, in the dear old library. It was the even- 
ing of the day on which the judge’s cousin had 
left them. Jean had been at home from school 
but a few days Avhen this cousin, wlio had pre- 
sided over the affairs of the Ilallock household 
nearly twenty years, informed them, now that 
it no longer seemed her duty to remain, she 
would prefer to return to her own village, take 
a few rooms in her own house there, and live 
more quietly and easily. 

They were surprised, but not deeply regret- 
ful. Her faithfulness had kept the domestic 
wheels running smoothly, but long ago Jean 
54 


WEALTHY TORBEY. 


55 


had recognized the fact that there was neither 
love nor tenderness for her under the cold ex- 
terior. She would do her duty by “ Henry’s 
child ” no more. 

So it was the question now of “ what next ? ” 

“Being twenty-one,” Jean suggested, “I 
suppose that I could look after the house, and 
myself, too.” 

But the judge shook his head. He was a 
stickler for old time proprieties. 

“ It would be a good deal of care and con- 
finement,” he said ; “ and then, when I am 
obliged to be absent, I do not like to leave you 
alone. You have many coming and going, 
and it takes so little to start idle gossip. Then, 
too, when we are both away, it is better for 
the order of the house to leave a head.” 

It was after this and a few moments of re- 
fiective walking back and forth, that he 
had made our opening remark — “There is 
Wealthy.” 

How, as Jean waited, he went on, with what 
was evidently a little effort. 

“ Your mother, Jean, was the sweetest girl I 
ever knew. How well I remember the first 
morning that she came into the old academy. 
She was a new scholar, from Leeds, and they 
gave her a seat a little in front of me, at one 
side. I thought I had never seen so pretty a 



56 JEAN'S OPPORTUNITY. 

face. The wind came in at the open window 
and blew the tiny brown curls on her neck all 
about. It was just blossom time and there was 
a large apple-tree close by the window ; one of 
the flowers blew in and lay on her braid of hair, 
and I swept it off on my way out to class and 
put it in my book and kept it for years. How 
she laughed when she saw it after she was my 
wife. I think I lost my heart to her at once ; 
I never cared for any one but her after that. 
Then we were married and came into this old 
home. It had been lonely enough before, for, 
as you know I had neither father, mother, 
brother nor sister left. Well, she lightened it 
up like a sunbeam,” and the judge’s voice was 
quiet. He was far back for a time in the old 
days. Then he roused again. 

“She was an orphan too, you know, Jean, 
almost as alone as myself, but she had one 
member of their family circle' left, a cousin. 
Wealthy, some seven or eight years younger 
than herself, who had been brought up in her 
home like a younger sister. She wanted 
Wealthy to come and live with us. Of course 
I was glad to please her. She came, a girl of 
sixteen or so, and I liked her though I some- 
times thought her willful in her quiet way. 
But your mother was very fond of her, and 
after your brother Charley died, and your 


WEALTHY TOBREY. 


57 


mother had that long illness from grief, 
Wealthy Avas devoted to her. Your mother 
never forgot that. She was not one Avho ever 
forgot a kindness. When you came, Wealthy 
was almost as fond of you as your mother Avas. 
But Avhen you Avere about a year old, and 
Wealthy had been Avith us some five years, Ave 
began to be troubled about her. We found 
that a young felloAV, by the name of Kalph 
Torrey, in school at the academy Avith her, 
was showing her much attention, and Ave 
feared that she Avas growing fond of him. 

“ I never liked the looks of the fellow, and it 
Avas easy enough to ascertain that his habits 
Avere of the Avorst, although he Avas younger 
than Wealthy. We told her of this but AA^ere 
surprised to find that she did not belieA^e us. 
She had always seemed so gentle, but she Avas 
infatuated noAV. Then Ave took her from 
school, she Avas almost through anyAvay. But 
in a little Avhile Ave Avere convinced that she 
met him secretly. That Avas an underhand 
thing I could not brook, and Ave had a stormy 
intervicAV in this room. At least my part Avas 
stormy. She only cried and cried, but Avould 
not promise to give him up. ‘I can’t, I 
can’t, for I do care for him,’ she Avould say. 

“ But I paid no heed to that ; I thought it Avas 
a girl’s fancy ; and forbade her on pain of my 


58 


JEAN^S OPPORTUNITY. 


severe displeasure having anything more to do 
with him. A week later they ran over the 
line and were married, and I have never seen 
her since.” 

“AYhat became of them?” asked Jean. 

‘‘Just what one would expect from a good- 
for-nothing like Torrey. He led her a poor, 
wandering life until the thousand dollars that 
she had inherited was used up; he gambled 
some too, in a small way. Then, just as they 
were reduced about as low as they could be 
and live, an old aunt of his died, and left him 
a small, hilly farm in a remote town, and they 
went there, and he settled down into an utterly 
shiftless life, of smoking and loafing, while 
Wealthy worked as a patient drudge to make 
their few acres furnish them bread. When 
your mother died she left in her will a thou- 
sand dollars in trust with me for Wealthy. I 
carried out my part, and each year remitted to 
her the interest. Some years later I received 
a letter from her, stating that the farm must 
go unless the mortgage, amounting to the 
amount I held for her was paid. I sent, and 
cleared the property, but placed it in such a 
way that her miserable husband could not dis- 
pose of it. I have never heard from her since. 
Torrey grew more and more dissipated, and 
some five years since was killed while intoxi- 


WEALTHY TOEREY, 


59 


cated by falling from his horse. A sad story, 
daughter.’’ 

“Yes, sir, it makes me shiver.” 

But the judge went on. “ You see, then, 
daughter, that I have fulfilled the written in- 
structions of your mother, but I am obliged to 
say this does not comprehend quite all. When 
she knew that life was slipping from her, one 
of her last whispered words was — ‘ Be kind to 
Wealthy.’ I could not while that man lived, 
to be truthful, I did not try. But now, in 
these days, some way your mother, Jean, seems 
near to me. I suppose it is because I draw 
nearer to the meeting with her. And I would 
like to fulfill her wishes. Then, too, I have 
recently learned that her little home is gone ; 
she burdened herself with debt to keep peace 
with him ; and she has had to leave it, and is 
now supporting herself in any way that she can. 
And she is no longer young to begin such a life.” 

“ Send for her, papa, at once ; we will do 
everything that mamma would have liked,” the 
daughter said. 

That was how the quiet, little Wealthy Tor- 
rey came back, with her patient mouth, and the 
faded blue eyes that spoke of floods of tears. 

Jean looked at her with interest for her 
mother’s sake, and then forgot her in her 
thousand girlish absorptions. 


60 


JEAN'S OPPORTUNITY 


It was nice to have everything, herself in- 
cluded, cared for, so unobtrusively but so 
well ; and she never dreamed, how the shy, lit- 
tle woman, who so seldom spoke unless ad- 
dressed, who was always busy about the house, 
or out of sight in her own room, was building 
up a temple of admiration and enthroning her 
there in place of her own lost, girlish ideals. 

Jean came into her room on some domestic 
matter one day and found Cousin Wealthy 
sitting beside the window with a book in her 
hand. Jean glanced at it, and saw, with sur- 
prise, that it was a copy of Tennyson. 

“ Are you fond of poetry ? she asked. 

Cousin Wealthy blushed. ‘‘ I suppose I 
oughtn’t to be,” she said, “but you know I 
have never had any chance in my life to read 
much, and I was trying now to see if it would 
seem as it used to when I was a schoolgirl.” 

She had such a soft, liquid voice, and a 
pretty way of speaking. 

“And can you make it seem the same?” 
Jean asked. 

“ No, no. Forty-five does not have the same 
outlook as twenty ; there is not the hope in 
it,” a little sadly. “ But the beauty is there 
all the same. I am glad of that.” 

When the judge went away from them so 
suddenly, Jean felt the love and tenderness, 


WEALTHY TORREY. 


61 


and recognized too, that, under the quiet seem- 
ing of this woman, there was yet much of 
force and strength. 

So to-night, Avhen she wanted some sympa- 
thetic and practical helper, she said, — “ There 
is Cousin Wealthy.” 

Going in, she found Cousin Wealthy busy 
in closing blinds and doors for the night. 
“ Can you stop with me a little while ? I 
would like to talk with you,” she said. 

“ Certainly.” They were in the library, and 
Wealthy sat down on the edge of one of the 
large chairs in her shy way, and Jean dropped 
herself into her own little red chair. She al- 
ways insisted that her best thoughts, if she had 
any best, came to her in that chair. 

JS^ow Jean had not the slightest idea of the 
way in which her older relative regarded her. 
That she was a good friend of hers she felt in 
that subtle manner, that sense of comradeship, 
that comes between two persons, and cannot 
be explained. 

But of the intense admiration, the delight 
at being just a part of her surroundings ; why ! 
Jean would have laughed outright at the 
thought. She was not a vain girl ; not given 
to self-ad miration. 

But it was a little hard to begin after all. 
Her thoughts were not classified yet. She 


62 


JEAN'S OPPORTUNITY. 


took the thought nearest and told the baby’s 
story. She had spoken of it at the tea-table 
but had been interrupted. She was surprised 
now at the eager questions, and in response to 
them the story all came out, even to the hold- 
ing of the little one, and the gifts sent to it. 
It did not seem like self-lauding, to such a lis- 
tener. 

“ But the trouble of it is,” she said at last, 
“ of what use will this one afternoon’s work 
be ? There will be the same thing to go over, 
day after day.” 

“ Yes,” Wealthy responded, “she only lives 
one day at a time, same’s the rest of us do. 
But you have helped through one day.” 

“ That is so little ; such a very little.” 

“ It was all that was asked of you to-day, 
Cousin Jean ; and after all, it will not be so 
little if the baby lives.” 

“ Oh, I do hope that it will. I know that 
Doctor Lambeth will do his best. And the 
world is full of just such homes, I suppose, 
Cousin Wealthy.” 

“Yes.” 

“I used to think,” went on Jean, “that all 
the suffering, and all the work, was in the poor 
streets of our cities. But, really, persons who 
are as ignorant of the laws of health as that 
Mrs. Parsons, may suffer anywhere.” 


WEALTHY TORRE Y. 


63 


“Yes, I have known many such in the coun- 
try places. It does not make any difference 
where one lives after the ambition and the 
hopes are crushed out of one, whether in fine 
houses or poor ones. I guess life looks about 
as dark in one place as another. I have seen 
enough that I would like to do for, and I was 
never in a large city in my life.” 

“ Have you ? O, Cousin Wealthy, I wonder 
what you would say to what I have been 
thinking of. You know I now own the old 
academy ? ” 

“ Yes.” 

“ I have been thinking of offering that to 
the Fresh Air Society, or some such, and let- 
ting them use it for their work.” 

“You would have to fit it up.” 

“ Yes, but that would cost no more than a 
gay season at some fashionable place would, 
and if I wished I should think I could afford 
that.” 

“ God would bless you in it, I believe,” 
Cousin Wealthy said, so reverently that Jean 
felt as though a hand had been laid on her 
head, and told her further thought. 

“ I have more income than I can possibly 
use as I am living at present. Mr. Shearer 
says, lay up a part of it for a rainy day ; and 
Mrs. Shearer, good soul,” with a merry laugh, 


64 


JEAN'S OPPORTUNITY. 


“ would like me to spend it, and my time, in 
making garments for the Hottentots. But I 
am just selfish enough to fancy that I would 
like to see it grow at my own hands. Some- 
way, Cousin Wealthy,” hesitantly, “it does 
not seem quite enough to just stand and throw 
off one’s gifts and then fold my hands and let 
some one else do the work. Does it to you ? ” 

“ ’Tain’t the way the Lord did, anyway. He 
went about doing good.” 

“ I suppose,” the girl resumed, “ if I was out 
in things now it would seem different, but shut 
away, as it were, for a little while, has given 
me new thoughts. I went down and looked 
over the old academy to-day.” 

“ Did you ? I wish I could ! I have never 
been in since I came back.” 

“We will go together to-morrow morning, 
and you shall tell me at which corner of the 
dusty shell to begin work.” 

“We will get Mrs. McGovern and Maggie 
Daily to cleaning at once,” Cousin Wealthy 
said, eagerly. “ Maggie was in the other day 
and said she only had one day of washing a 
week now, and Mrs. McGovern had less even 
than that, steady, and with her large family 
too. It will be a God-send to them.” 

“ Why, how things work in together,” Jean 
said, reflectively. “Begin one work, and it 


WEALTHY TORREY. 


65 


stretches out in every direction, and draws in 
others, and helps. Society can never be a class 
thing after all, can it ? I never saw it in that 
light before.” 

“We are all members together,” quoted her 
cousin. 

“What shall we do first. Cousin Wealthy?” 

They talked long, the two, but when they 
separated at last, the girl laid her head on her 
pillow and was soon lost in happy dreams. 

It was the woman who tossed in wakeful- 
ness, who watched the waning moon, whose 
heart was too glad to rest. 

The woman who saw the dreams of her iso- 
lated, struggling years about to be fulfilled. 
“ I have to think of others to keep from going 
crazy,” she had often said to herself. And so 
she had filled her days and nights with plans 
for the helping of others. Plans that she had 
expected to be but as “idle tales.” Was it 
possible after all that there was to be a part 
for her in iust such work as she had longed 
to do ? 

And Jean did not know how God had been 
preparing a helper for her. How, through 
years of loneliness and waiting, the willful girl 
had learned to forget self, and think for others. 
Until to-night she was rejoicing to be a part, 
even a small one, in his plan. 


CHAPTEE Y. 


WOKKING IN. 

It was scarcely past seven o’clock of the 
next morning when Dilly stood tossing her 
mane at the piazza steps. She Avas not as sur- 
prised a horse as some might have been. She 
did not belong to a family AA^ho lose some of 
the most Avonderful beauty through over-sleep. 
She had been called upon to appreciate “a 
glorious morning” at more than one early 
hour ; and perhaps she did ; Avho knows ? 

She seemed to have more time than any one 
else just noAv for a long look back at the beau- 
tiful A^alley shining still in its freshness, the 
mountains still hiding their hollo avs in deeper 
shadows from the sun’s penetrating gaze, and 
the smoky curves from the tall chimneys. The 
Avhistle from a noisy locomotive parted the air 
Avith its shrill shrieks, and in the trees close by 
the birds Avere yet swelling their throats in 
joyous matins. 

But the people of the house had no time for 
gazing. Jean Avas hurrying back and forth on 
forgotten errands. Cousin Wealthy Avas giA^- 
ing last directions to Einda, Avhose portly form 
66 


WORKING IN. 


67 


blocked the further doorway ; and IVIark and 
Wittie were trying to accommodate in the 
phaeton, a basket too large for the space, well 
filled with what seemed to be dilapidated gar- 
ments. 

“ Looks as though I had turned old clothes 
peddler,’- Jean remarked, laughing, and trying 
to find a place for her feet that had never 
seemed large before. ‘‘Cousin Wealthy, we 
shall have to hang ourselves out.” 

“Never mind; I can curl up. You turn it 
a little and find a place for yourself.” 

“Wittie, you come as soon as you can,” 
ordered the young mistress. 

“La, miss! Wittie can go any minute you 
want her,” from Kinda. “ I guess I am equal 
to one house, and presarving, too.” 

“Dilly went a little lame yesterday,” ob- 
served Mark. “ I’d look out for loose stones.” 

“Yes, I will,” and Jean gathered up the 
reins and started off, laughing softly. “ It’s a 
chronic habit of Mark’s to think Dilly has gone 
lame,” she said, under her breath. “ Shall we 
go and see the doctor first ? ” 

“ Perhaps so, though Maggie and Mrs. Mc- 
Govern ought to be told if they are going to 
get in a full day.” 

“We will see them then on the way down. 
It is not much out of our way.” 


68 


JEAN'S OPPORTUNITY. 


They took a little roundabout way to the 
lower town, and stopped at a small, unpainted 
house, from whose doorway a plump, pleasant- 
faced girl promptly presented herself. 

“ Sure, and I’ll be glad of the work mesilf. 
Tom’s that bad from a felon on his hand, and 
not able to work, and it’s not much I finds 
mesilf. It’s the good thing I caU it that ye 
wants me.” 

“See Mrs. McGovern, then, and go up to 
the academy. We will be there soon,” said 
Jean. 

“I’ll do that, miss, ye may be sure. And 
she’ll be glad too ; the poor widow woman, 
that she is. She’ll bliss ye the day.” 

“ There is a specimen of Irish warm-hearted- 
ness and sisterly feeling,” Jean remarked, as 
they drove on. “ Tom, her brother, brought 
Maggie over from the old country when the 
mother died, and she has been devoted to him 
and his family ever since. She turns in all the 
money she can earn for the family. And they 
have been unfortunate enough. Every sick- 
ness comes their way.” 

“Yes, and fortunate for us that she is such 
a neat, tidy body,” put in Cousin Wealthy. 
“ I couldn’t stand her around if she was such 
a shiftless piece as that Mrs. Parsons.” 

“And yet. Cousin Wealthy,” Jean went on, 


WORKING IN. 


69 


thoughtfully, “ I found myself wondering the 
other day, whether, after all, I blamed her too 
much. What has the poor woman had to do 
with ? ” 

“Water is plenty enough,” uncompromis- 
ingly. 

“Yes, but they have to bring it up quite a 
steep little incline from the brook on the other 
side of the road.” 

“Well, I know what that is; I did it my- 
self for years.” 

Jean felt like saying, “But not for seven 
children,” but refrained. They were nearing 
the doctor’s house. 

He was beside their carriage a moment after 
they stopped. 

“ How is the baby ? ” Jean asked, eagerly. 

“ Living, that is about all. A hard fight.” 

“ You have seen it this morning, then ? ” 

“ Yes,” with a quick twist of the lips. 

“ You must have gone early.” 

“No, I went late instead.” 

“ Late last night, do you mean ? ” 

“ About eleven o’clock.” 

“ O, doctor ! But then, I knew you would. 
And is it going to live ? ” 

“Not in that place. Miss Jean.” 

“ Where, then ? ” 

“ That is the question.” 


70 


JEAN'S OPPORTUNITY, 


Why not there ? ” 

“ Why, Miss Jean, the air of that place, not 
to say hole, is stifling. In those two small 
rooms eight people are breathing, and there 
are only two small windows for ventilation. 
Then all the domestic operations are carried 
on right there. The woman was baking some 
bread until after ten, and the heated stove was 
not five feet from the cradle. Think of that, 
with the mercury at eighty. Then, every noise 
disturbs its delicate, broken nerves, and there 
is seemingly nothing but noise. And yet rest 
and pure air are its only salvation. All doc- 
tor’s drugs are lost with such surroundings. 
We are used to that. Poor air, and poor nurs- 
ing, give us our occupation.” 

“ Well, what can be done ? ” 

“The Lord knows. Miss Jean, I do not.” 

“Suppose he provided a better place,” Jean 
went on, slowl}^, “ and good care, what would 
you say ? ” 

“ That he had better do it quickly. Miss 
Jean.” 

“ Why, doctor ! ” 

“The child cannot live twenty-four hours 
where it is. Why, the hills around shut off 
all breezes, and there is a constant miasma 
from that SAvamp nearly opposite. It is a 
wonder it lives at all. Given higher ground, 


WORKING IN. 


71 


cooler air, and quiet, and there might be a 
normal chance for it. But, as I say, where is 
that to be found ? ” 

Jean turned and gave a long look into her 
cousin’s face, that in some way gave its mute 
answer. 

‘‘Would the old academy do?” she asked, 
turning back to the doctor. 

“ Do ? Why, there isn’t such pure air in the 
world as up there.” 

“All right; there it shall be before night. 
Cannot stop to explain now ; a good deal of 
work to do first. You get the mother ready, 
and I will do the rest.” 

“ But is the child able to be moved ? ” put in 
Cousin Wealthy. 

“ It is its only chance, and must be taken,” 
the doctor answered. 

“ I will come for it, and all of them, you un- 
derstand, doctor, by four o’clock. How, Dilly, 
ready.” 

“We can do it. Cousin Wealthy, we must,” 
as they drove on. 

“Well, I guess four of us can get one room 
ready ; though I did suppose the kitchen would 
come first,” Avas the good lady’s answer. 

They drove to the general store next, and 
after a liberal order that Avould be brought in 
half an hour, went on, Avith tAvo mop handles 


72 


JEAN'S OPPORTUNITY. 


and several brooms standing up between them 
and reaching up above the phaeton top. They 
met Max Levison on his way down town. He 
must be pardoned if a long stare accompanied 
his polite greeting. “ What is Jean up to now, 
I wonder,” was his comment. 

They found the two women waiting at the 
door, and the key seemed to sing a merrier 
song than the other day as it turned in the 
rusty ward. “ Here we come, here we come, 
to begin a new living,” was its refrain to-day. 

Cousin Wealthy’s small figure descended 
promptly to the kitchen. The others followed. 
She was already rattling the dampers and 
grates of the range. 

“ I do not believe it is rusty inside,” she said, 
peering in. “ Looks as though there had been a 
fire here lately, anyway.” 

“Oh yes, there was,” from Jean. “I heard 
Mr. Shearer say that they heated water here 
for cleaning the chapel, and for experiments, 
at the time of the summer school, and it 
worked all right.” 

Maggie was returning from the basement 
shed-room with an armful of kindlings. “ And 
there’s a nice little pile of sticks in there 
beyant,” she said ; “ enough to kape us a day 
or two.” 

“ I told Mark to order a load of stove wood 


WORKING IN. 


73 


brought here this morning,” returned Jean, 
peering into cupboards and finding treasures 
innumerable, in the shape of nicked dishes, tin- 
ware that only ‘‘ needed shining up,” and the 
like. 

In a few minutes a bright fire was crackling 
and blazing, and the next question was, water 
to fill the new wash boiler that was to be on 
hand at the promised half hour. 

“ It can be got at the trough bey ant,” and 
Maggie looked over to a pasture near, where a 
stream wound down from the mountain behind 
the building, and was caught for the cattle in 
a hollowed trunk. 

‘‘We must have a man,” Jean said. “You 
cannot lose your time and strength bringing 
water. I wonder where we can find one ” 

“And it’s Tom would be glad to do the 
waiting on us,” from Maggie. 

“ But his hand.” 

“ Oh, it’s over the worst, it is, and it’s haling 
now. And he’s getting that restless, the house 
will hardly contain him. But it’s in the boiler 
works he is, and he has to have the two hands 
iv him for the heavy hammer. But he can 
bring the water and do a hape iv things with 
the one hand. It’s wonderful how cute he is.” 

“ Go and get him then, Maggie. I think we 
can keep a one-handed man busy all day,” 


74 


JEAN'S OPPORTUNITY, 


and Maggie sped on her errand with shining 
eyes. 

“ITow Mrs. McGovern,” to the quiet little 
widow, “ you may take a broom and sweep out 
the dust of ages that this kitchen accommodates, 
while Mrs. Torrey and I are busy looking up 
what to do upstairs. Come, Cousin Wealthy.” 

They lingered a moment in the chapel. 
Jean crossed the room and lifted windows to 
let the summer air drift in. When she turned 
from her long look out, she saw her companion 
standing with drooped head beside a desk half 
way down the room. “ This is where I used 
to sit,” she said with unsteady voice. 

“ The whole room is a pleasant one ; it must 
have been a pleasure to be a student here,” 
Jean said; but she was thoughtful enough to 
pass down the aisle and out the door and up 
the stairs, and leave the one who was waiting 
with Memory alone for a little while. 

When her cousin joined her on the upper 
floor, Jean was full of plans. 

Here are the rooms I think we must get 
ready for Mrs. Parsons and her flock,” she an- 
nounced. “ See, this corner one has windoAvs 
to the east and south, but the trees shade it 
just enough to keep out the heat. And there 
will be no miasm here.” 

“It could not be bettered,” Cousin Wealthy 


WORKING IN. 


75 


said, warmly. “What a beautiful, beautiful 
place this is, Jean.” Then a little shyly, “ You 
know, Jean, this building holds my little 
poetry of life.” 

“ Is not life more prose than poetry at 
best ? ” Jean asked, quietly. 

“I guess so, dear. Just as well perhaps,” 
and then they were quietly busy again. 

“I will make a list of the things needed 
here,” Jean said, seating herself on the window 
seat. “ Will this paper do ? ” 

“ I think it will,” Cousin Wealthy answered. 
“ I have been looking it over carefully, and I 
cannot find that there are any moths. These 
rooms are so high and have so much sunshine 
that no dampness or mould seems to have 
gathered here.” 

“And this buff paper with rosebuds on it 
and vines is pretty, if it is old-fashioned,” went 
on Jean. “ Can Maggie whiten it ? ” 

“ Oh, yes, Maggie is very good with a brush. 
I will see to that. There is a good closet here 
too.” 

Jean went on with the list. “ Matting for 
the floor,” she read aloud, “ and a set of light 
furniture.” 

“Plain,” put in Cousin Wealthy. 

“ Oh, yes, a bedstead, bureau, and washstand 
and some chairs. Is that all ? ” 


76 


JEAN'S OPPORTUNITY. 


“A window shade,” from Cousin Wealthy. 

“ Yes, and a toilet set.” 

“IS'ow, Jean,” interposed her cousin, “I 
would not get breakable articles if I were you. 
Get a tin hand basin and a water carrier.” 

“ Oh, Cousin Wealthy, my heart is just long- 
ing for some of those lovel}^ sets at Atkins’. 
Blue and white, or pink and white, Avith lovely 
trailing vines that make one think of green 
woods and shady places. Don’t you think I 
ought to make the influences of the room ele- 
vating ? ” 

“It will not be elevating to your disposi- 
tion,” grimly, “ every time you come here to 
find a new nick or crack in your trailing vine 
pitcher or a three-cornered piece gone from the 
bowl.” 

Jean laughed merrily. “ Stern prose, you 
hold me to that I see. Cousin Wealthy. Here 
goes, then, to my lovely dreams. Tin, painted 
tin, may I have that, at least ? ” 

“ Yes. Will you have any towels ? ” 

“ Loads of them. How I Avill enjoy buying 
them. I am a born shopper. Cousin Wealthy. 
The instinct Avithin me is as strong as in any 
other Yankee to swap jack-kniA^es. Anything 
else?” 

“ A small table to keep medicine and such 
things,” her cousin suggested. 


WORKING IN. 


77 


“ Of course. And a lamp. And perhaps I 
will see something else in the store.” 

“ Don’t lose your head,” from her cousin. 

“ !N^o. And what answers for one will serve 
all,” Jean went on. 

“ What do you mean ? ” 

“ Why, that I may as well order for more 
than one room at once.” 

“Then you are going to fit up more than 
one?” 

“Even Mrs. Parsons’ family would find it 
rather contracted quarters to all crowd into 
this one, would they not ? ” 

“I presume so. I had better be at work 
then.” And Cousin Wealthy bustled off for a 
broom. 

“ Dear Master, make the work thine,” whis- 
pered the girl in the window ; then she too 
went off for business. 

It was as she had said, Jean loved shopping. 
Perhaps it would not have given as unqualified 
pleasure if she had not known that the credit 
at the bank was a long one. As it was the 
morning seemed radiantly shining as she drove 
to Atkins’ large and well-filled store. Its 
three floors never looked more tempting. But 
it was not the silk upholstered chairs, or the 
newest divans, she was seeking. 

“ Show me plain chamber sets of three pieces ; 


78 


JEAN^S OPPORTUNITY, 


light wood to make a room cheerful,” she said 
to the proprietor, who came in person to wait 
upon her. 

He wondered a little at first, but when he 
saw how the list grew, heard orders for four 
sets at once, for three pieces of floor matting, 
for pillows and bedding, for tin and dishes, for 
tables and lamps, and, indeed, for every kind 
of household goods, his curiosity deepened, 
until when the order was given for all to be 
sent at once he ventured a question. 

“ The old academy ? Allow me to ask, Miss 
Hallock, if you are about to begin housekeep- 
ing ? ” with a quizzical glance. 

‘‘Ho, and yes, Mr. Atkins. Eeally, I am 
going to make a home for a little while for 
some who may not be so fortunate as to have 
such a pleasant place,” Jean explained. She 
had made up her mind suddenly that it would 
be better to state the matter clearly, rather 
than to have all kind of reports and guesses 
flying about. And, of course, she could not 
keep people from wondering. 

Mr. Atkins was grave at once. “ I am very 
glad to hear that. Miss Jean. Consider me 
pledged to assist you all in my power.” And 
in the summing up of the bill, that was made 
soon after, there was a liberal discounting. 

Jean drew her check for the amount at once. 


WORKING IN, 


79 


“Father used always to say, ‘ Pay as you go, and 
then there will be no surprises,’ ” she quoted. 

“Your father was a good man,” said Mr. 
Atkins ; “ I wish there were more of his kind.” 
How the girl’s heart swelled with joy. 

“ It is worth while to have the memory of a 
good father,” she said so heartily that, some- 
way, Mr. Atkins thought of his own daughters. 

“ I will send on the things as fast as they can 
be loaded,” the merchant said, “ and what you 
find you have forgotten j^ou can send back for ; 
it shall be attended to promptly.” 

Jean found the academy in a whirl of activ- 
ity and dust. The two rooms had been swept 
and mopped so as to be dry for matting. 
Maggie was sweeping the long hall ; Mrs. Mc- 
Govern washing doors ; and Tom, with one 
lame hand, doing good work on windows taken 
out and carried to the kitchen. 

“Have you come?” called Cousin Wealthy, 
emerging from a large china closet opening 
from the kitchen and dining-room. She had 
her head bound in a towel and flourished a 
damp cloth with which she was wiping shelves. 
“ The next thing you want to put on your list, 
Jean, is mice traps. Of all the places I ever 
saw this is the worst. Thomas is going to mix 
up some soft soap and sand and stuff the holes 
as soon as he finishes the windows.” 


80 


JEAN'S OPPORTUNITY. 


“I will that, and I’ll be through soon,” 
Thomas put in pleasantly. 

“ How are you getting on. Cousin W ealthy ? ” 

“ Oh, we have made a beginning. A begin- 
ning is a great thing. But it will be long be- 
fore you see the end of the dirt. I am getting 
ready for the dishes now. Go upstairs and see 
how good it smells, Jean. If there is one smell 
in this world cleaner than another, it is fresh 
lime. The wall is not black, so Maggie only 
went over it once, over the ceilings in the two 
rooms. Is that right ? ” 

“ You know far better than I, cousin.” But 
she went up, just to smell the fresh lime, and 
the fresh summer air sweeping through. There 
slie found Wittie, too, engaged in the great 
work of cleansing. 

One large load came and was unloaded and 
carried upstairs, and then it was dinner-time, 
and Jean and her cousin went up to try some 
of Binda’s good things. But Hilly thought 
her nooning very brief ; it gave her no chance 
for a nap. 

“Come and get Hilly and put her on the 
surrey, and have her back to me by half-past 
three, prompt,” were Jean’s parting orders to 
Mark. 

The faithful man looked after and com- 
mented. “ When Miss Jean took anything she 


WORKING IN. 


81 


always did have it hard,” he mused, aloud. 
‘‘ Mumps or measles or chicken-pox ; and now 
it’s charity, it’s just the same. But I’m glad 
it’s struck where it has, anyway.” 

The floors were dry by the time they reached 
the academy again, and tacks and hammers 
had been thoughtfully sent, so that soon the 
lively music ‘of putting down matting broke 
upon the quiet noon hour. 

“ What in the world is going on here ? ” It 
was Ethel’s merry voice and J ean went to the 
stairs to meet it. 

“ Come and see. Oh, I am so glad you have 
on your morning dress. Ethel, did you ever 
carpet a room in your life ? ” 

“ I have assisted at that high ceremony. Miss 
Hallock.” 

“ Come and help me, then. I am aching to 
drive those lovely, double- pointed tacks, and 
Cousin Wealthy has Thomas to assist her and 
dares to say that she prefers him. You and I 
will take the other room.” 

“ But what in the world are you doing ? Max 
said he met you this morning with a broom 
upright for a standard, and Lucile said she saw 
a load of goods come here. What does it all 
mean, Jean ? ” 

“Don’t ask too many questions, that’s a 
dear, but work lively, and I will gradually to 


82 


JEAN^S OPPORTUNITY. 


you a tale unfold that will make your heart 
ache. You remember the family we visited 
yesterday ? ” 

“ I could not forget the Parsons, Jean.” 

“And that dear baby is only just alive, 
Ethel. Which way should the breadths run, 
anyway ? ” 

“ Toward the door, of course, for sweeping. 
Is that baby coming here, Jean?” 

“ Providence permitting, yes.” 

“ Bless you, Jean, you are a darling.” And 
then they were too busy to talk much. 

Cousin Wealthy heard the sounds from the 
next room. “ I don’t suppose they will get it 
down anywhere near straight,” she thought, 
“ but that don’t matter half so much as to feel 
that they are doing something.” 

It was all settled, the room for the poor 
woman and sick baby, by the time that Dilly 
and the surrey were in waiting at the gate. 

“Isn’t it just lovely?” Jean said, pressing 
out a fold in the new towel spread on the 
washstand. “ Oh, I am sure the baby will be 
better as soon as it gets here.” 

But her heart sank when, after a quick drive, 
she drew rein before the poor shanty, and saw 
the tiny babe brought out in the doctor’s arms 
lying on a pillow. It was so small and so 
white, its tiny fingers like wax folded on its 


WORKING IN, 


83 


breast; its closed eyes; it did not seem to 
breathe. 

“I thought I had better be here to assist 
you, Miss Jean,” the doctor said, gravely ; his 
finger was on the wee wrist, and he spoke 
softly. “IS'ow you get in there, Mrs. Parsons, 
and I will lay the pillow on your lap. Keep 
your arm under it and save from every jar 
possible. Jaky, sit in beside your mother and 
move this fan, gently, just as I told you. As 
for you, little folks,” and he turned to the 
group of girls huddled together, ‘‘ I will take 
the two smallest and Miss Hallock the next 
one on the seat with her ; then you two older 
girls will have to walk ; we shall go very 
slowly so you can keep with us. Jaky can 
come back with the express wagon for the 
things later. I will go ahead, Miss Jean, and 
take the side streets ; ” and so the procession 
set off. Jean did not speak often. It seemed 
as though she ought to stop the speech of those 
they met. She looked back sometimes, but 
almost feared to turn her eye upon the baby. 

The doctor was waiting for them at the 
academy gate. He reached up and took the 
tiny wrist. They all watched his face, and 
were relieved when he nodded. ‘‘He has 
done as well as I could hope,” he said, softly, 
and himself carried him up the stairs to the 


84 


JEAN'S OPPORTUNITY, 


clean, airy room awaiting them. He gave them 
a moment to see, then turned all but mother 
and child out. ‘‘ How, if you wish your little 
brother to live,” he said to Jaky, “take these 
children downstairs and out of doors, and show 
them that they must not come here, or make a 
noise out of doors ; do you understand ? ” 

“ Ya’as, sir.” 

“ See to it then,” and the doctor went back 
to the room. 

The mother had hardly seemed to look about 
at all, but sank at once into the one rocking- 
chair the room offered. How Jean had 
pleased herself quite a little in the selection of 
this chair. It was a dainty, willow affair, with 
rolling arms and top, her “ one extravagance,” 
she admitted to Cousin Wealthy. Great was 
her disgust to hear the poor woman, after a 
little uneasy settling, say — “I wish I could 
have my own rockin’-chair to set in; it’s hand- 
ier, somehow. Can’t Jaky bring it along with 
the boxes ? ” 

“ I suppose that he can,” Jean answered, 
with unnecessary dignity. 

Wittie came in presently bringing a cup of 
tea and a plate of bread and butter. 

“Mrs. Torrey thought perhaps she would 
like something after her ride.” Mrs. Parsons 
looked up with interest. 


WORKING IN 


85 


“ It smells good,’’ she said, and drank so 
eagerly that Jean forgave her former dissatis- 
faction. 

“ Where is Mrs. Torrey ? ” Jean asked. 

“ In the basement. Miss Hallock.” 

“Why doesn’t she come up?” Jean asked, 
but Wittie seemed to be too busy just then to 
answer. 

“I must go now, Miss Jean,” the doctor 
said, “ but I will come in again before bed- 
time. Now, Mrs. Parsons, remember, let the 
little one lie quiet, and not be disturbed at all ; 
and give the medicine exactly as I have told 
you. It is the hardest matter to insure quiet,” 
he added to Jean, as he stood near his carriage 
drawing on his gloves. “ Where are the 
children, I wonder ? ” 

They walked around the corner of the house 
together. There, on the further side, under a 
tree, the group of girls were gathered, braiding 
leaves. 

“Come here, Linda,” called Jean. 

“ I can’t, ma’am.” 

“Why not?” Jean asked, going nearer the 
group. 

“ Cos, Jaky told us not to stir out o’ under 
this tree while’s he was gone, or he’d give it to 
us,” and at the mention of this dire threat the 
group huddled closer together. 


86 


JEAN^S OPPORTUNITY. 


“ Wish the mother had half as good govern- 
ment,” the doctor said, laughing as they went 
back. 

“Cousin Wealthy,” Jean called at the 
kitchen door, and finding that vacant, went 
on to the dining-room. There, sitting in a low 
chair, and supporting her head on her hands, 
sat the object of her search, with a face pale 
enough to tell its own story of pain. 

“Sick headache?” asked Jean. “Oh, that 
is too bad ! ” to the answering nod. For she 
knew that once in a while, those sore afflictions 
visited the little woman. When she waited 
for hours, with head tightly bound, pressed 
close to the pillow to still the throbbing ; when 
it seemed as though a trip-hammer was pound- 
ing inside; as though every worry she had 
ever lived through, or every task there was to 
accomplish in the future, was running riot in 
her brain ; and all she longed for was to for- 
get, to absolutely know nothing for a time. 

“We will go right home then,” Jean said, 
“ it is time anyway. Can you sit up to ride, 
cousin ? ” 

“I must,” Cousin Wealthy answered. To 
how many lives is a “ must ” the keynote. 

There were a few more directions to give. 
Jaky was to have a mattress spread on the 
floor for that night ; the others could get 


WORKING IN. 


67 


along in the two rooms. Then Dilly, who was 
used to such indignities as waiting anywhere, 
in a way that must have seemed very purpose- 
less to a horse that had never belonged to a 
lady, was turned homeward. “ I feel that we 
have accomplished a good beginning,” Jean 
said, as they drove on, “ and you know Cousin 
Wealthy, one of your watchwords is, — ‘Well 
begun is half done.’ Now, if that dear little 
thing, with the bird’s claws for fingers, can 
only get well. But I do not think that Dr. 
Lambeth is very sanguine. Still, sick people 
do get well in spite of doctors.” But Jean 
meant no disrespect to the profession. “ Has 
your head ached all day, cousin ? ” 

“ A little, but I hoped to get rid of it.” 

“ And you never spoke of it.” 

“ Ho, why should I ? If your trouble can be 
helped, help it ; if not, bear it.” But the voice 
was faint, and Jean was glad when she could 
close the door of the little lady’s room upon 
her, and leave her to the longed-for quiet. 


CHAPTER YL 


A night’s lesson. 

Jean was wide awake that evening. Call- 
ers came in, lively young people from the 
hotel, who thought the country delightful, 
“just for a few weeks in the season, you 
know,” but wondered how any one could 
“exist in Williston,” through the winter 
months. They went away early, saying, — 
“ What a charming person Miss Hallock is ; so 
bright ; and so cultured. She would be quite 
in place in the Back Bay. Wonder what she 
will do with herself ? Left free, as she is, and 
so independently well off.” 

Jean had been over that question often 
enough herself. Ho one can say that she was 
not dwelling upon it now, after the callers had 
gone, as she was lingering again in the moon- 
light on her wide, back porch. “It seems 
wicked to lose all this beauty,” she thought. 

The night was very warm and still. Every 
leaf hung motionless. Hot a shadow on the 
shorn lawn flickered. The long line of moun- 
tain-tops was outlined against a lighter tint of 
88 


A NIGHT'S LESSON. 


89 


sky. The bits of water, here and there, shone 
as polished mirrors. 

The sounds were growing few and faint. 
Jean noticed a horse trotting sharply up the 
street. Then she heard the gravel of her own 
drive crunching under its slower walk. When 
she went to the steps at the end of the piazza 
the doctor’s light carriage was waiting there. 

“ What is it, doctor ? Is the baby worse ? ” 
she asked, hurrying down. ‘‘ Have you been 
to see it ? ” 

“Yes, just come from there. Ho, it isn’t 
any worse ; nor any better ; couldn’t be worse 
and have the breath of life left. Where’s Mrs. 
Torrey ? ” 

“ Gone to bed with a terrible sick headache.” 

“ Whew ! ” with a long drawn whistle. 

“ Why ? What’s wanted, doctor ? ” 

“ Some good soul, like your cousin, for nurs- 
ing.” 

“Yes. Well.” 

“You see. Miss Jean, it’s like this. That 
poor woman down there, she isn’t overly 
afflicted with knowledge, and she has a moth- 
er’s feelings, good and strong ; but she is made 
of common clay like the rest of us mortals ; 
and she has scarcely slept any for two nights. 
When I was down there just now I saw that 
she wasn’t going to stand another night of 


90 


JEAN^S OPPORTUNITY. 


watching, such as that morsel needs ; she will 
go to sleep in spite of herself ; and if we want 
to save that bit of humanity, it must have the 
best of care to-night.” 

‘‘ And you do not know of any one to go 
for, doctor.” 

I declare, I do not. It seems strange, but 
I could think of no one but Mrs. Torrey.” 

“And she cannot go, so I will,” Jean said 
turning up the steps, “wait until I get my 
wraps, please, doctor.” 

“Hold on. Miss Jean, what are you talking 
about ? ” 

“ About taking care of the sick baby, doctor.” 

“ Indeed ! And what can you do ? ” 

“ Keep awake, and give the medicine. Per- 
haps as well as the mother,” she added, de- 
murely. 

The doctor coughed a little, and “ pshawed ” 
a good deal, but Jean held quietly to her 
point. “ Wittie will go with me,” she finally 
conceded, and then the doctor yielded. 

“Well, hurry up,” he said, “and I Avill take 
you along. You see, just as I started out I 
met a man coming for me. Somebody, three 
miles out, has tumbled off a load of hay and 
broke a collar bone and bruised himself gen- 
erally. What on earth makes men so careless 
I can’t see,” he grumbled. 


A NIGHT'S LESSON. 


91 


“ So as to keep you in business, doctor,” Jean 
retorted, as she hastened in. 

“Wittie go? Well, I guess she won’t,” 
Einda returned, when the case was made clear 
to her. “ What’s she but a slip of a girl, any- 
way. And what does she know about nurs- 
ing ? And what protection would she be to 
you, I’d like to know. Here you, Mark, don’t 
turn in just yet. You and I have got to take 
a walk. You just ride on. Miss Jean, and I’ll 
follow pretty soon. I know how to take care 
of a baby. Didn’t I help tend you, I’d like to 
know ? ” 

And after all that was implied in that Jean 
could not object. 

An hour later the two new nurses were in- 
stalled in their places. But it was Einda’s 
capacious lap on which, on a pillow, the little 
one was finding quiet rest, while Jean with 
slippered foot, hovered near ready for any 
service ordered. 

“ Good land ! ” Einda had said, when she 
entered the room, “ now do tell which looks 
most like a ghost ; ma, or baby ? JSTow, you 
Miss Parsons, you just lie right down on that 
bed. Give me that baby, ef it don’t slip out o’ 
sight handing it over, and I’ll tend to it. The 
Lord never give me any o’ my own but I’ve 
brung up other folks’, and you needn’t be 


92 


JEAN'S OPPORTUNITY. 


afraid o’ nothin’. And you, bub,” after the 
worn-out woman had obeyed, “ what you 
bangin’ round for ? ” 

“ Why, Jaky is his mother’s chief helper,” 
Jean hastened to say, “and the baby thinks 
everything of him. But we will do just as the 
doctor has told us, Jaky, and do you go and 
lie down while you have a chance. I hope 
little Max will be better when you wake up.” 

But Kinda shook her head after the boy. 
“ Small chance of that,” she whispered. 
“ Look at those blue veins ; and it’s nothin’ 
but skin and bones at best. Think of growin’ 
a man out o’ such a object as that ! though some 
o’ ’em ain’t much more to boast of even when 
they get up. Now, Miss Jean, you just sit 
down and make yourself as comfortable as 
you can ; I’ll keep him as still as I can, and 
let him have the little chance shiftless folks 
have left him,” and the good woman began a 
soft crooning such as women, probably from 
the days of Mother Eve, seem to possess nat- 
urally, and to sway gently the capacious lap 
on which the tiny form rested ; and gradu- 
ally the plaintive moaning ceased and the 
child slept ; fitfully, and with frequent starts 
at first, but gradually deepening to more quiet 
rest. 

Jean had seated herself by the table and 


A NlGHrS LESSON. 


93 


was busy with a book she had brought with 
her. She had thought also to bring a hand 
screen, and had folded this around the lamp 
to shield its light from the little patient. At 
first she looked out frequently beyond her ra- 
dius of light to the shadowed room, the dimly 
outlined figure slowly swaying back and forth 
with the spot of white in the centre. Then 
the quiet grew more intense, and she lost her- 
self in the closing chapters of her deeply in- 
teresting book. The hands of her Avatch had 
twice pointed to the even hour, and she had 
risen and prepared the medicine prescribed, 
and they had given a little nourishment to the 
child ; that was all that had disturbed the si- 
lence. 

It was half-past twelve when she finished 
the last page and closed her book. Still so 
very quiet, and she found that she was grow- 
ing sleepy ; she rubbed her eyes, but the shad- 
ows only wavered more grotesquely ; the air 
seemed close too, though they had left all the 
Avindows open that they dared ; its oppressive- 
ness tried her; she would go out in the hall 
and move about a little. Signifying her in- 
tention to Einda by signs, Jean opened the 
door and had nearly fallen over something 
lying close beside it. “ Why, Jaky ! ” she ex- 
claimed, relieved from her first start when a 


94 


JEAN’S OPPORTUNITY. 


gleam from the lamp showed the hoy’s head 
resting as near as could be to the crack ; for- 
tunate for him that the door opened inward ; 
“ what are you doing here ? ” she asked, clos- 
ing the door softly. 

“ I thought mebbe he’d cry and I could do 
something,” Jaky answered, in his slow way. 

“JSTo, he is resting quietly,” Jean answered, 
more patiently. “ Haven’t you been asleep at 
all?” 

“Ho, miss, not yet. I was listenin’. Do 
you think he’s better ? ” he asked, eagerly. 

I cannot say, Jaky, but this sleep is the 
best thing possible for him. How you lie 
down again and sleep too.” 

The boy obeyed the first part of her injunc- 
tion, and Jean turned away wondering that 
the hall was so very dark, and what had 
become of the moon that she was certain 
belonged to this time of night. While she 
Avaited there was a sudden jar upon the si- 
lence ; a crash that roused the echoes from 
some far part of the large building. She had 
groped her way out from the long side-hall, 
and just as she reached the corner of the main 
hall a sudden burst of moonlight illumined 
the scene, showing the stairs near by, and 
flashing a thought upon Jean’s mind. There 
were wooden shutters on the basement Avin- 


A NIGHrS LESSON. 


95 


dows and also upon those of the chapel ; there 
had been a sound of breaking glass in the 
crash ; one of the shutters had blown to and 
must be fastened. Jean was no coward, but 
she was glad just then that there was some 
one near. 

“ Jaky,” she whispered, loudly, and in a 
moment the boy was beside her. “We must 
go down and fasten some shutter,” she said, 
and as she went down the boy’s bare feet pat- 
tered close behind. 

She had not noticed how the wind was 
blowing until she opened the chapel door ; she 
had not seen the clouds until she crossed the 
large room toward its western side ; then she 
saw the dark masses rolling up from the hori- 
zon, and the wind almost swept the shutter 
from her grasp. “ Get some papers, Jaky ; 
there are some over in that corner ; we will 
have to stuff this opening in the window. We 
are going to have a hard shower, I fear,” she 
said, when they had succeeded in securing 
the refractory blind. The clouds were roll- 
ing higher ; the moon shone out less and less 
frequently. “We must go and see if there 
are any windows open anywhere else.” 

“Do you mean a thunder shower?” the 
boy asked. Jean pointed to the long lines of 
light beginning to play around the dark edges, 


06 


JEAN'S OPPORTUNITY. 


and a faint, muttering roll just then served for 
answer. 

“ Oh, dear ! and ma is awful ’fraid o’ thun- 
der. I wish we was down under the moun- 
tain, cos she’s so frightened.” 

‘‘I wish we had a lamp,” was Jean’s reply. 
‘‘ Only two lamps in the house, and both in 
that room. No, we must do as well as we can, 
and not disturb them as long as we can help 
it. Come, here are the stairs,” and the two 
went from room to room as well as they could 
in the deepening shadows, seeing that all was 
safe and tight. At one of the windows Jean 
lingered a little ; it was a grand sight there 
out in the night. Around the lone mountain- 
top the lightning was playing constantly now. 
It broke through rifts in the heavy clouds that 
were wrapping the sides of the mountain lower 
and lower. “ Neponset will soon have his cap 
entirely down over his ears,” Jean said to her- 
self. Higher up the dark masses were scudding 
along as though pursued by an angry demon, 
gathering closer together, showing flashing 
gleams of light, while the low rumble was al- 
most constant now and increasing in force. 

For a moment Jean lingered, looking out on 
the grand scene with varying emotions. It 
stirred her pulses to quicker throbbing with 
its majesty, and yet the girl was conscious that 


A NIGErS LESSON. 


97 


it was very dark about her, that the lightning 
and thunder were very distinct in that great, 
lonely building of many windows, and that 
there were few persons in it. What was it 
that whispered to her heart just then the 
words, “ He that dwelleth in the secret place 
of the Most High shall abide under the shadow 
of the Almighty.” It had been a favorite 
chapter of her Bible-loving father. How 
often, in times of questioning or trouble, he 
had read that at their morning devotions. She 
used to think, “Father has some hard point to 
decide,” when she heard it. How well she re- 
membered sitting in the little red chair one 
Sunday afternoon and learning the whole 
chapter. How pleased he had been when she 
recited it. “ Thou shalt not be afraid for the 
terror by night.” Yes, they were strong 
words ; they helped her. 

“Ma’ll be awful scared,” Jaky said beside 
her, and Jean was conscious of the boy’s 
quickened breath and that he had drawn un- 
usually near. 

“ That is true, Jaky ; and they will hear the 
thunder by this time. But God can take care 
of us,” she added out of the fullness of her own 
heart, as they made their way back to the 
chamber. Another thought had come to her ; 
Kinda, who was brave as a lion for anything 


98 


JEAN’S OPPORTUNITY. 


else, was a coward in a thunderstorm. She 
had been heard to say that she “Would just 
like to set on the North Pole a while, out o’ 
sight o’ thunder and lightnin’.” 

Jean began to feel that there was consider- 
able responsibility resting on her. She opened 
the door of the chamber with a little hesitancy. 
A louder clap than any previous one rolled 
above them. A quick glance showed Kind a 
with grim, set lips, still slowly rocking in the 
low chair, the child in her lap turning uneasily 
as though disturbed. The woman on the bed 
had turned over and buried her face in the pil- 
lows. But when Jaky went up to her and 
said, “ Ma, I’m here,” she lifted a thin, white 
face toward him. “ Give me the baby,” she 
said, anxiously, “I’ll put it down under the 
pillows and it’ll be safe.” 

“ Don’t you touch this baby,” Kinda opened 
her set lips to say, as the boy turned toward 
her. “ He’s got all he can do to pull through at 
best, and I won’t have him disturbed for 
nothin’. Them’s the doctor’s orders, and I in- 
tend to obey ’em.” 

“He has had a good nap, Jaky,” Jean said, 
as she held a spoon with a few drops of 
nourishment to the open lips. “ See, see 
Kinda ! that is the first time he has seemed to 
care for anything. I believe he wants more,” 


\ 



A NIGHT'S LESSON. 


99 


as the baby opened his eyes and looked up at 
them, and then worked his little lips and 
tongue as though he had enjoyed it. “The 
darling ! he shall have more.” 

The thunder crashed above them, the light- 
ning played in at the unshuttered windows, 
the rain poured down, but the eager group 
within scarcely noted. The mother had risen 
and was bending eagerly over the tiny form ; 
Rinda’s face was one broad smile ; while Jaky 
clasped his hands in silent ecstasy, as Jean 
again held the spoon and the liquid was sucked 
out and swallowed with feeble welcome. 

“Row, that’s enough,” Einda said, de- 
cidedly. “We won’t kill him with kindness; 
wait a while now.” 

Baby turned his large eyes toward her, then 
slowly closed them and with a little sigh of 
content turned his head to one side and put up 
his tiny hand to his cheek. 

“ That’s the fust nateral move he’s made 
since yesterday morning,” whispered the 
mother, “ ain’t it, Jaky ? Oh ! I guess he’s 
goin’ to get along now, don’t you ? ” looking 
about eagerly. 

“We will hope so. I’m sure he seems 
brighter, doesn’t he, Einda ? ” 

“ Time’ll tell,” returned that oracle. “ Don’t 
’sturb him now a fussin’ and stewing” 


100 


JEAN^S OPPORTUNITY, 


So they grew quiet again. The woman lay 
down on the bed, and though Jean thought at 
first she heard a few sobs, she could not tell ; 
she was certain in a few minutes, from the 
heavy breathing, that she was sleeping. 

Poor thing ! ” Kinda spoke in a whisper, 
glancing toward the bed, “ I s’pose she’s nigh 
about tuckered out ; but she seems to set a 
store by the young one after all.” 

Jaky had disappeared to his floor couch, 
and Jean sat down again by the shaded lamp. 
The storm had passed by. There were fitful 
dashes of rain still against the window panes, 
as though some spiteful cloud sent back its 
protest ; and the muttering of thunder sounded 
like low growling in the distance. But no 
one minded now. 

A deeper passion than fear, one of the great 
common impulses of humanity, a fellow desire 
and longing, had driven out nervousness for 
self, and around the tiny baby struggling for 
its faint hold on life, their hearts had joined 
together in longing and prayer. 

“ It is strange,” mused Jean, resting her head 
back against a pillow Kinda had placed on the 
bureau so as to form a cushion, “how much 
more I care for Mrs. Parsons and her family 
than I would have thought possible yesterday 
morning. I might have sent my order and 


II 


A NIGHT’S LESSON. 


101 


had these same things given to her, and been 
assured that she was made comfortable, and 
yet only felt a passing interest in the whole. 
But it would just about break my heart now 
to have that baby die. Ever since I washed 
his little face, and he looked up at me so piti- 
fully, as though beseeching me to help him, it 
has seemed to me that I must have him live. 
And the mother ! I only thought of her as a 
poor, shiftless piece, who must expect work 
and trouble. Seemed as though it belonged 
to her. But I look at it differently now. It 
must be, that doing the little, common things 
for others with one’s own hands, gives a dif- 
ferent feeling about it. Why, even Jaky’s 
stolid face is becoming a pleasant one to me. 
Was that what the Master intended, I won- 
der, when he came and lived among men? 
How much of that does he mean for us, I won- 
der ? — for me ? ” 

Then her head sunk lower on the cushion ; 
she was lost in dreams. When she roused 
again an early sun was shining over the moun- 
tain-tops. The baby was lying with open eyes 
on Kinda’s lap. 

“ How is he ? ” whispered Jean. 

“Ho worse, anyway.” 

“ And you have been awake all night ? ” 

“ ’Tisn’t the first night of my life I’ve tried 


102 


JEAN^S OPPORTUNITY. 


it. Ilis ma was pretty well beat out. She’s 
slept like a log.” 

At sound of the low tones the door was 
pushed softly open and the faithful Jaky crept 
quietly in. Baby Max looked at him and then 
his lips curved to the faintest smile. Jaky had 
to get behind Kinda’s broad back to express 
his emotions properly. 

It was Avell that a knock on the lower door 
just then gave opportunity to vent his excite- 
ment. He came back soon, the doctor with 
him. The mother had joined the group and 
all waited anxiously. 

The doctor held the small wrist a moment, 
looked at the parched lips, laid his hand above 
the heart, and then smiled graciously. 

‘‘ Quite as good as I could hope for,” he said, 
softly. “A better condition than last night. 
IV ith good care and perfect quiet we may * 
bring him through, and make a man of him 
yet.” What was the reason that Jean had to 
turn away to the window so quickly ? Was it 
possible that she was glad enough to start the 
tears ? 

The doctor carried her home, and it seemed 
to her that no morning drive had ever equalled 
that one. The sleepy quiet of the wide street 
was just beginning to be broken. Here and 
there kitchen doors were being set open; 


A NIGHT'S LESSON, 


103 


smoke curled lazily up from newly kindled 
fires ; every blade of grass glistened with dew ; 
the well-shaven lawns looked almost to be 
spread with a hoary mantle ; sparrows pecked 
for their morsels and chirped the latest news 
from sparrow-land; a child, laughing some- 
where, fell as a fitting tone upon the air. 

“ I wonder why there is so much lost beauty 
in the world,” Jean said once, and the doctor 
added, “ If it is lost.” 

It was not until their cosey breakfast was 
nearly over that Cousin Wealthy heard of her 
“night escapade,” as Jean called it. She had 
looked so pale and tired that the girl waited 
for tea and toast to give her a stronger hold 
on things. She was interested enough now. 

“ You don’t tell me ! ” the lady exclaimed, 
“ that you have been sitting up all night ; you 
and Einda, while I have been sleeping like a 
log! Well, that has been my way of life; 
sleeping while others worked. But I am 
ready for anything now, Jean; what’s next? 
You will see ? Well, you are not going down 
there to work to-day : I am able to do that ; 
only tell me what you want.” 

“ Eo, I have promised to take some friends 
to drive this afternoon. Mrs. McGovern and 
Maggie will be on hand early, and I have en- 
gaged Maggie to do the regular work there 


104 


JEAN’S OPPORTUNITY, 


right along as long as I wish for her ; she is 
neat and a fair cook; I must get another 
woman for cleaning.” And then the plans for 
work made the sometimes quiet hour for meals 
a lively one. 

“ It seems good to hear ’em goin’ on in there,” 
Einda remarked, in the kitchen. “ Sometimes 
they set like two mummies at their own funeral, 
just for lack of something to say.” 

“Yes, child,” Cousin Wealthy was saying 
within, “ the only really sensible way of work- 
ing for folks, is a-working with them. Then 
your cream rises right as you go along. I 
don’t attempt any great thing. I couldn’t ever 
write a book ; ’twould be like the old woman 
who begun one, and wrote, ‘January and Feb- 
ruary,’ and couldn’t think of anything further. 
But when it comes to looking after cleaning 
and dishwashing, I’ve served my apprentice- 
ship ; and if the Lord’ll count me worthy to 
look after things, and help you in making that 
old academy a ‘ place of refuge ’ for some poor, 
trembling souls needing it. I’ll thank him, and 
be joyful all the days of my life. And you 
may count on me through thick and thin.” 

“ I may depend upon you then to look after 
the work ? ” the girl said, with a beaming smile, 
and a feeling that she and Cousin Wealthy 
were coming nearer together than ever before. 


A NIGHT’S LESSON, 


105 


“ I’ll do the best I can, Cousin Jean,” Mrs. 
Torrey returned, though it is nothing to boast 
of,” she added, humbly. “Perhaps,” she re- 
sumed, “ the Lord is going to let me learn be- 
fore I die that one can’t size up their whole life 
from a few years in it. I used to think, when 
I was a kind of ‘ shut-in,’ as ’twere, up on that 
hillside farm, poor health, no near neighbors, 
n'othing, as I used to feel sometimes, but just 
God up there, that life was all through with 
for me, there wasn’t any special need for me, 
with only one person in the world, and per- 
haps he’d be better off without me, and no 
place a-calling for me, and I used to get nigh 
discouraged with longing. And then I’d plan 
and plan what I’d do for folks if I only had 
the chance. I had to, you see, to keep from 
thinking about my own mistakes and disa|> 
pointments till I went crazy. And now, look 
at me, and what a large place I’ve come out 
into. Here I am, real Avell and strong, plenty 
of time, and here’s the Lord putting into your 
heart a chance for me. It does seem too much 
good for such a homely little person as I 
am.” 

Jean laughed merrily. “Keep excited like 
that. Cousin Wealthy, and have that lovely 
little flush on your cheeks, and those bright 
eyes, and you will lose the character you are 


106 


JEAN'S OPPORTUNITY, 


giving yourself for plainness. But you shall 
have your ‘ chance.’ Here, and now, I appoint 
you matron in chief, and promise to keep j^ou 
busy enough to satisfy you.” 

“ What will you do. Cousin Jean?” 

“ What would you advise. Cousin Wealthy ? ” 

“ Seems to me I’d get rid of some of tliose 
cobwebs and that dirt in the rooms first of any- 
thing.” 

“ Spoken like a model housekeeper. Cousin 
Wealthy. Go on as you please.” 

“ Who are you going to bring there next ? ” 

“ Do not know ; I am Micawber like this 
morning ; waiting for what turns up. Seri- 
ously, Cousin Wealthy, when I began I in- 
tended to fit up several rooms and offer to the 
Fresh Air Society. Perhaps that may be the 
best thing now. What do you think?” 

“Perhaps it will. I’ll see to the cleaning 
anyway.” 

“ And I will order furniture for four more 
rooms, similar to the others, to-day.” 

“ That is enough ; better not go too fast. 
It’s better to ‘ Measure the water’s depth before 
you plunge into it.’ How much are you pur- 
posing to spend anyway. Cousin Jean ?” Mrs. 
Torrey sometimes came out with rather blunt 
questions; but Jean only laughed. 

“I suppose I shall be wiser by and by, 


A NIGHT’S LESSON. 


107 


Cousin Wealthy. All I can say to-day is, 
enough to make the Parsons comfortable.” 

“Don’t make paupers of them, Jean. That 
shiftless father may come back yet.” 

“ Oh ! no fear of that ! Mrs. Parsons would- 
n’t see him if he did.” 

Mrs. Torrey smiled ; perhaps she knew more 
than Jean of a wife’s blindness. 

“Well,” Mrs. Torrey resumed, after a mo- 
ment’s musing, and in a half-shy manner, “ how 
would it do to say you would follow in the lead 
of Samuel, when the Lord called to him in the 
night?” 

“What! and say, ‘Here am I,’ Cousin 
Wealthy? I suppose that would be the safe 
way; only, you know, we so seldom really 
think it.” 

Jean went up to her own room and dropped 
into an easy chair beside the window that 
commanded all the magnificent valley view. 
“ Poyal ! ” she said to herself, gathering it into 
her glance ; “how city girls would enjoy this ! 
I must write to the Fresh Air Society to-day.” 

Then she took up a little volume of poems 
lying on the table. She always kept several 
there. “ I make it a rule to put some poetry 
into my life each day,” she had written a friend 
a few days before ; “ I want to keep my life in 
harmony with beauty, and I find nothing that 


108 


JEAN'S OPPORTUNITY. 


more elevates my thought and inspires my best 
enthusiasm than a good poem.” 

It was only natural this morning that when 
she came across the expression of her own 
thought it should arrest her attention. 

“ This just voices my sentiment,” she said, 
and read again and again, until the words were 
quite her own : 

** If I can stop one heart from breaking, 

I shall not live in vain ; 

If I can ease one life the aching, 

Or cool one pain. 

Or help one fainting robin 
Unto his mate again, 

I shall not live in vain.” 

“ That seems small enough even, for my 
weakness,” the girl thought, “ but I could 
never have said it like that.” And yet there 
had been times in her life Avhen Jean had ven- 
tured upon rhyming. 


CHAPTER YII. 


INTERRUPTIONS. 

The days of another week had slipped 
quietly by when we meet Jean again at her 
breakfast-table. 

They had not been entirely unfruitful ones 
measured by the “ old academy ” standard, the 
only one Jean possessed now. Much had been 
done in that historic building. Under Mrs. 
Torrey’s active supervision, and with such 
helpers as Mrs. McGovern, Maggie, and one- 
handed Tom, order was evolving itself from 
dust and chaos ; and it had been with some- 
what pardonable pride on the previous day, 
Jean had escorted Ethel Hye, who had been 
out of town for a week, about the building to 
see what improvements had been made. 

“ Aren’t these halls clean ? ” she asked ; “ I 
assure you, there has been almost water 
enough used on them to turn a mill. Mrs. 
McGovern is a good scrubber. One of the 
first things done Avas to repair the large cis- 
tern; it was not so bad after all, and for- 
tunately since, there have been two nights of 
rain and filled it nicely. How see my rooms; 

109 


110 


JEAN'S OPPORTUNITY. 


six in order; two for the Parsons, Jaky still a 
wanderer, one for old Lady Bly, and three 
waiting — who knows for whom ? ’• 

“ Oh ! that must be such a delightful excite- 
ment, Jean ; to be doing something good, and 
not know for whom. Do you think it will 
be children ? It is just lovely to do for chil- 
dren. They seem to appreciate it so much 
more than older persons.” 

“ I hope so, though the Fresh Airs say it is 
rather a long distance to pay fares ; and they 
want to go out in parties too of twenty or 
more, and I am not ready for so many just 
yet.” 

“ Of course not. Who is old Lady Bly ? ” 

“ Oh, just one of the dearest old ladies ! She 
lives on one of the Mill streets with a stepson. 
I have taken her for a month. Doctor Lam- 
beth found her for me. She is seventy-five 
years old, and I fancy the son’s wife is not very 
kind to her ; there is a baker’s dozen or less of 
children, all like a set of shallow stairs. She 
is quite lame from rheumatism, walks with a 
cane ; but she has the most patient face you 
ever saw, and she seems so happy here.” 

“ She cannot get down stairs then ? ” 

‘‘ Oh, no ! but then that educates the Par- 
sons, don’t you see? Mrs. Parsons says it 
seems as though her own mother, who died 


INTERRUPTIONS. 


Ill 


when she was nineteen, had come back to her. 
And as for Jakj, he would count it a pleasure 
to walk, I cannot say run of Jaky, both feet 
off in her service. Just look in on her.” 

Jean opened a door and the two girls 
went in to the neat, tidy room. There sat the 
peaceful-faced old lady, quietly moving an old- 
fashioned feather fan over emaciated Baby 
Max lying on the bed. On a low box the 
second Parsons girl was sitting, intent on a 
picture book. 

“Where is Mrs. Parsons?” asked Jean, 
softly. 

“Down doing a little washing, and Jaky is 
helping her, and Martha is here to walk for me 
if I need her.” 

“ How is baby ? ” 

“ Oh, he is improving ; slow, but steady, I 
think. He is beginning to notice things.” 

“ And are you feeling better, Mrs. Bly ? ” 

“The Lord be praised, yes. And every- 
body’s so dretful kind to me,” with a tremble 
in her voice. 

“ I’d like to know how anybody could help 
being good to that saint ! ” Ethel exclaimed, 
indignantly, as soon as they were back in the 
hall. 

“ It does seem strange, doesn’t it ? But they 
say her daughter-in-law is a hard woman, and 


112 


JEAN'S OPPORTUNITY. 


doesn’t believe in ‘ pious talk,’ any way. As 
long as the old lady was of use to her she en- 
dured her, but since she has become lame there 
is no peace for her. The son drinks, too, at 
times. The doctor said she could not last long 
without some rest and good food ; so here she 
is.” 

‘‘ And all working like a ‘ happy family ’ in 
a museum, Jean,” Ethel returned, lightly. 

The girls lingered for a little in the swept, if 
not “ garnished ” chapel, talking of the “ yet 
to be.” 

“You still have Tom, I see,” Ethel re- 
marked, looking out on the grounds, where a 
man with one hand bound up, was running a 
lawn mower. 

“Yes, and I expect to keep him. Tom is 
left with one stiff finger for life, so that he 
cannot handle his heavy hammer again. The 
doctor says that he is pretty well broken down 
for hard work any way. But he is the most 
faithful fellow you ever saw, or, say as faithful 
as Maggie, and you have it, and as pleasant as 
the day is long. Just meets my need ; so the 
wind ‘ blows somewhere,’ you remember, if 
I am not the ‘shorn lamb.’ ” 

They examined the kitchen department, too, 
shining with new tins, fresh chairs, and well 
scoured tables. 


INTERR UPTIONS. 


113 


“ What a blessing it is that you have your 
cousin, Jean,” Ethel remarked. 

“ Indeed I appreciate that ; she is the oil 
that keeps the macliine running smoothly.” 

You make me ashamed of mj^self,” Ethel 
said, impulsively, as they waited for a moment 
in the wide doorway. “ Here you are doing 
so much, and I nothing ; nothing, only just to 
look after my miserable little self. I am sick 
of it.” 

“Well, that is what I should certainly have 
been doing if papa had been here,” Jean re- 
turned. “Dear papa, how he tried to make 
me happy. But I do believe, if I had been a 
little more sensible and unselfish while he was 
living, it would have made him glad. I know 
he hoped to make an ‘ Old Ladies’ Home ’ of 
this sometime, but I never manifested much in- 
terest in it. I think of that when I look at Mrs. 
Ely ; and, Ethel, you can help ever so much.” 

“ O, Jean, if j^ou only will let me ! ” with a 
little squeeze. “ I am not a bit satisfied with 
myself, not a bit.” 

When Jean reached home that night she 
found a letter awaiting her that almost drove 
other thoughts from mind. While in her 
senior college year, Jean had contracted quite 
a pleasant friendship with a certain Lena Yan 
Dorm, of Baltimore ; a tall, graceful girl, two 


114 


JEAN'S OPPORTUNITY. 


3^ears her junior and a class below ; when 
through school this friendship might have 
dropped like many others, but it happened, 
while in Berlin and not very well, that she 
found Miss Yan Dorm there also, studying 
German, and chaperoned by a sister eight 3^ ears 
older. It is very easy in a foreign land to find 
mutual interests with one’s fellow-country- 
women, and beside, Jean’s beauty-loving nature 
went out in a thrill of admiration toward Doily 
Yan Dorm at once. 

She knew of the younger sister’s passionate 
fondness for her, and had heard her praises 
sounded by the hour, and when she saw she 
no longer wondered. Her story, too, so ro- 
mantic ; just what appealed to a girl’s heart. 
Engaged at twenty to a naval oificer, rapidly 
making his way up the ladder of promotion, 
who sailed away one fair day on the high 
seas, — and came back no more. Stricken by 
fever in a torrid zone and laid away on a 
coral island ; that was the story. And Dolly 
had never forgotten. She still wore his picture 
close to her heart. She had directed that it be 
buried with her when she died. 

But, aside from the romance, Dolly Yan 
Dorm was a magnificent woman; stately, 
graceful, cultured ; and then, how lovely and 
tender to her young sister’s friend ! And, after 


INTERRUPTIONS. 


115 


the manner of girls, Jean had placed this older 
girl, this “ woman of the world,” on a pedestal 
and worshipped her. If Miss Yan Dorm had 
any faults, Jean’s partial eye could not dis- 
cover them. 

Since her return Jean had corresponded in a 
fitful manner with Lena, and the messages sent 
by the elder sister had been the choicest bits 
of the return letters. The sisters had tarried 
abroad most of this time. They were orphans, 
and their two brothers were settled in homes 
of their own. With abundant means and 
leisure, their one aim was “ culture,” — and the 
position this would give them. 

“ I shall not feel as though I knew anything 
when Dolly Yan Dorm gets here,” Jean con- 
fided to Ethel. 

“ Oh, pshaw ! ” returned Ethel, who was of 
more easy going nature than her friend, 
“what do you care? Grandma says, ‘Your 
friends must like you for what you are, not for 
what they want you to be ; ’ and that makes 
things much simpler ; don’t you see ? ” 

“ Perhaps so ; but I like to have my friends 
proud of me,” answered Jean. 

“ Well ! they generally are, cherie.” 

“ But I mean clear through. Because they 
cannot help it. Because I am of use to them. 
Don’t you see ? ” 


116 


JEAN^S OPPORTUNITY. 


“ Yes, you always were ambition itself, Jean. 
Shall I keep out of sight entirely ? or, do not 
your high ideas extend to your friends ? ” 
“You will present yourself promptly, and 
look your prettiest, Ethel.” 

“ Oh, yes ! All anybody ever wants of me 
is to look my prettiest. Suppose that is all 
they expect, anyway.” 

“What cloven foot of ambition is that show- 
ing itself in your nature, I wonder, Ethel? 
Well, as your grandma is always saying, ‘Be- 
have as well as you look and I will be satis- 
fied.’ Only I really cannot imagine what I 
am going to do in this country town to amuse 
JY^iiy Yan Dorm for two weeks.” 

“ Does she have to be amused then ? 
Grandma would say, ‘ It is a poor mind that 
cannot carry its own furnishings.’ ” 

“ You know what I mean, Ethel Hye,” al- 
most impatiently. “ Here, they have been 
travelling everywhere, and seeing everything, 
for years ; and what does Williston have to of- 
fer them in comparison, but hills, and quiet ? ” 
“ Should think they might enjoy country 
simplicity for a change,” sensibly. 

“Well, they will not. Who ever saw ‘so- 
ciety girls ’ such as these are, that cared a fig 
for ‘ country simplicity,’ or anything else 
simple ? ” 


INTERRUPTIONS, 


117 


“ Teach them something new then ; time 
they learned,” and Ethel went off home. 

Cousin Wealthy was no better when Jean 
showed the tip edge of her trouble to her. 
“Seems to me, Jean, if they’re folks worth 
having for friends in one place they are in an- 
other. I wouldn’t give a snap of my finger 
for having Queen Victoria a friend to me a-sit- 
ting on her throne, if she didn’t know me when 
she met me on the street.” AVith which re- 
publican sentiment, Cousin Wealthy too, 
walked off. 

But, for these and sundry reasons, Jean’s 
sleep was light and broken that night. One 
thing that came across the spirit of her dreams 
was the north chamber. This was the large, 
square chamber over the parlor. While much 
of the house had been furnished over in modern 
style this had always been left to show the 
taste of previous generations. With dark 
carpet, heavy dark draperies, even a canopy 
bed. Now Jean felt, that to please the Van 
Dorm critical eye this must undergo an entire 
transformation ; there was a week before the 
guests would come ; she would go to the city 
in the morning at half-past eight, invite Ethel 
to accompany her, see what she wanted, de- 
cide, and purchase, and return at eight in the 
evening; and the result should be, “Just a 


118 JEAN^S OPPORTUNITY. 

love of a room, too sweet for anything ! ” and 
perfectly suitable for the grand Dolly Yan 
Dorm in which to rest her queenly head. 

And after this was all settled, there was just 
time for a “beauty nap,” before rousing the 
household to an early morning, and herself to 
a busy day. 


CHAPTER VIII. 


OTHER GIRLS. 

Jean Hallock made a very pretty picture 
that morning as she sat down to a hasty break- 
fast. It was intensely warm. The sun had 
come up over the mountain without even a 
filmy veil to hide it, and hung, a round, red 
ball in the sky; the dew was disappearing 
rapidly under its enticing warmth ; the robins 
had sung their morning praises in the cooler 
twilight, and were silent now. 

But Jean looked cool and comfortable in 
her white suit with its dainty lace ruffles at 
wrist and throat. Her father had always 
liked to see her in white, and it seemed to 
the girl a part of lier mourning for him. Her 
hat was white, too, and drooping, but trimmed 
with knots of white and black velvet. And 
the kid gloves that lay beside her little plate 
were white, also, and heavily stitched with 
black ; a black bordered handkerchief, too, 
peeped from her waist. But even these 
sombre tints could not dim the fair, girlish 
figure and face. 

“ A new shade for the hall lamp, you say, 


120 


JEAN'S OPPORTUNITY. 


Cousin Wealthy?” she asked, pausing half 
way through a muffin to make an entry in 
the tablet lying beside her. “Yes, I remem- 
ber; it is cracked, l^ow, do you think of 
anything else, cousin ? ” 

“ ISTo ; and I fancy you will think your list 
long enough for this hot day.” 

“Oh, I shall not mind! Such fun to see 
pretty things, and to think that you can select 
from them for one’s self. I believe I am a 
born shopper. Shall I match your silk to-day, 
cousin ? ” 

“ Oh, no, I shall not have it made up until 
cooler weather.” 

“Well, let Wittie clear out the north cham- 
ber to-day; I shall want to put the paperer 
and painter in as soon as possible ; the acad- 
emy must go for a few days; I must treat 
these friends the best I know how.” And 
Jean stood drawing on her gloves, for Dilly 
had left the stable and was stamping the 
gravel at the steps, and Ethel’s voice was 
heard in the hall. 

“Good-morning, everybody. My, what a 
hot morning ! ” Avas her greeting. “ Hope we 
shall not melt away. Am not late, after all, 
am I ? Grandma hurried me olf so, I am not 
certain whether I am the early bird catching 
a worm, or what.” 


OTHER GIRLS. 


121 


“ ]N’o time, Miss J ean, to lose,” called Mark, 
and the two girls, in their fresh, rustling 
suits, sprang into the back seat of the surrey, 
and were then driven, in a quiet, respectable 
manner, down to the station. 

“ It is always I that must hurry, never by 
any chance Dilly, if Mark is the driver,” Jean 
was accustomed to say good-naturedly. 

‘‘ There is Agnes Storms,” whispered Ethel, 
after a gentleman with true American polite- 
ness had given up his seat in the crowded car 
that the two might sit together. 

“ Where ? Oh, there by the door ! How 
thin she looks.” 

“ Yes, she has to more than work, I sup- 
pose; her mother sick with nervous prostra- 
tion ; three children to look after ; and papa 
says her father’s salary is small enough.” 

“ What does he do ? ” 

“Clerk in at Esmond’s. She joined the 
church at the time we did. Do you remember, 
Jean?” 

“ Seems to me so. What poor taste she has.” 

“ Fancy she don’t have much choice. That 
dark wool skirt she has on, I am mistaken if 
I have not seen that sharp-looking Mrs. Comar 
wear. Mrs. Comar is her aunt, and I suppose 
she must take her cast-offs. Jean, I have an 
errand of my own after all, to-day.” 


122 


JEAN^S OPFOBTUNITY. 


‘‘What?” 

“ Why, Lucile found I was going, and wants 
me to go way up to John’s silver store, to get 
two souvenir spoons, certain style and size, 
for a wedding present. Are you going up so 
far?” 

“ ITo ; expect to spend most of my time in 
the house-furnishing stores. Go with me first 
and get me started, and go there right after 
lunch.” 

“All right; I fancy I shall be ready for 
that ; do not feel very well satisfied with my 
breakfast allowance. Grandma was prompt- 
ing me to rapid work by one of her old axi- 
oms, ‘I don’t suppose Judge Hallock was ever 
late at anything in his life.’ You don’t know, 
Jean, what it is to have the models of a former 
generation continually held up before you ; I 
wish our ancestors had not been so perfect. 
I scalded my mouth this morning at the mem- 
ory of your father, and tore my glove over 
the shade of Aunt Lucy, who was a ‘ model of 
propriety,’ and never went on the street with 
gloves half buttoned.” 

There was never any use in trying to resist 
laughing at Ethel’s merry banter. 

The train rolled into the large station, that 
seemed cool under its lofty, arched roof. Every- 
body rushed out and olf, as though impelled 


OTHER GIRLS. 


123 


by the largest amount of work to do in the 
smallest possible time. Our girls joined the 
hurrying stream, and soon entered the wide 
doors of “ Heyster and Co.,” first-class furnish- 
ing store. Jean was, as she had said, a born 
shopper, and though enough beauty was dis- 
played to her to make choice almost confusing, 
yet she kept a level head, and by eleven o’clock 
her prompt decisions had crossed one after an- 
other of the “needs of the north chamber,” 
until the tablet was almost cleared. 

“ So that I think you had better go for your 
spoons before lunch,” she said to Ethel. “ I 
want to think about two or three points before 
deciding, and I have some errands in at Whit- 
comb’s, and will do those now, and meet you 
at Simcoe’s for lunch at twelve-thirty.” 

So it was decided ; Ethel took the trolley 
for up town, to her cousin’s shop, and Jean 
went a block or two down to Whitcomb’s, a 
large dry goods emporium. 

As usual there was a “ sale ” there, and a 
crowd of course. It was very tedious getting 
her little notions, and the close air fairly 
shimmered with heat, and Jean’s fresh suit 
was badly pressed in the crush. “ I shall look 
like a beggar’s wrinkle,” she thought, shaking 
herself out in the scanty space allowed as she 
waited to go up in the elevator. We tell you 


124 


JEAN^S OPPORTUNITY. 


all this as you may be obliged to apologize for 
our Jean yet. And there are so many ladies 
who never seem to forget their right to such a 
“ title clear,” except at a “ bargain sale.” 

But she looked wonderfully fresh and cool 
to the heated clerks in the suit room of the 
second floor as she stepped from the elevator, 
and came down between the loaded tables. 

“ I would like to see the white suits you ad- 
vertise,” she said, stopping before a recessed 
corner, above which was conspicuously dis- 
played the legend, “Bargains to-day,” and 
where three or four clerks seemed to be the 
busiest of all. 

“ Here they are, miss. What quality would 
you like ? ” 

“ The best, of course,” Jean answered quite 
shortly. Did she look as though she would 
like anything else ? And just then a fat 
woman, fairly steaming in her wool delaine 
dress, had reached quite around Jean’s slender 
waist to finger a garment lying on the counter, 
and the various bundles with which she was 
loaded had poked most unceremoniously into 
Jean’s side. 

And she had not looked at the low voiced 
clerk waiting on her. If she had I am sure 
she would have noticed how pale and wan she 
was. 


OTHER GIRLS. 


125 


“ These are the best, miss.” 

These? Well, they are decidedly coarse ; 
I would not think of wearing one : I don’t see 
how you can offer them to any one.” 

]^ow the poor, pale-faced girl opposite had 
scarcely sent in a check that morning; she 
knew what would be said of her at the desk. 
And, perhaps heat is just as trying to a clerk 
who has been standing in it for four hours, as 
to any other girl. At least, this one was 
guilty of an indiscretion. She “ answered 
back,” for the first time in her clerkly ex- 
perience. “ There’s plenty of nice folks that 
do,” she answered just as shortly. 

Jean raised her head, and lifted her eye- 
brows in surprise. “ Impertinent ! ” she ex- 
claimed, and turning, walked haughtily away ; 
a fioor walker obsequiously bowed, and turned 
aside ; Jean scarcely noticed him. In five 
minutes she had found a place at the ribbon 
counter, and in the pleasure of finding “ har- 
monious colors,” and “ love of tints,” had en- 
tirely forgotten the unpleasant episode at the 
bargain counter. 

“ Twelve, twenty-five,” Jean said, glancing 
at a large clock as her package and change 
were handed her, “must make haste to Sim- 
coe’s now.” 

She was a little rested by her wait at this 


126 


JEAN^S OPPORTUNITY. 


more quiet counter, and could see clearer. 
At any rate, as she walked leisurely down the 
aisle, her eye fell upon Agnes Storms, stand- 
ing by a remnant counter, and looking, closely 
with near-sighted gaze at a pile of folded 
pieces. 

“How homely she is, and how tired she 
looks,’’ was Jean’s first thought. Her second, 
and not half as agreeable a one, stayed her 
steps instantly ; while she fought one of the 
little battles then and there, that a true dis- 
ciple must wage all the way along ; and that 
are hard for girls, dainty girls, brought up to 
love beauty. 

For, just then and there, a picture suggested 
itself to Jean. It was of Simcoe’s shaded and 
cool restaurant, with its marble floor, its 
tinkling ice-pitchers, its trained waiters ; and, 
at one of its small, oval tables with shining 
linen and polished silver, there were sitting, 
herself and Ethel — and this third girl ? This 
plain, tired girl ? who would, perhaps, have no 
lunch otherwise — who had promised to serve 
the Master at the same time that they had ? 

Ah! it- was this that made Jean step so 
quickly, and her invitation, “Good-morning, 
Miss Storms. Will you come and lunch with 
Miss Hye and myself ? ” so cordial and smil- 
ing. 


OTHER GIRLS. 


127 


The girl looked up hesitatingly while a quick 
flush spread over the thin, pale face, but with 
such a light in the grey eyes ! “ Please do, it 

is just lunch time now. I am sure you can 
select better after eating.” 

“ Thank you,” Miss Storms said slowly, ris- 
ing. “ I cannot see very well,” she added as 
they walked on, “ I needed new lenses in my 
glasses, and my cousin, who is in an oculist’s 
shop, said if I would come here he would fit 
me without charge ; and father thought I had 
better come; and then mother saw the bar- 
gains advertised and wanted me to get a few 
things for the children. But I cannot have 
my glasses until three, and I cannot tell much 
what I am looking at without any.” 

“ Perhaps I can be eyes for you after 
lunch.” 

“ Oh, if you only would tell me about two 
pieces I was looking at, for Lottie a dress ! I 
could hardly tell the blue from green. And I 
want blue, of course, for her light hair.” 

They entered Simcoe’s large room ; how 
cool it seemed after the heated street ! Ethel 
was waiting at one of the side tables ; if she 
was surprised at Jean’s company no one would 
have guessed it. As for Agnes, it was a bit 
of Paradise to her. She had not expected any 
lunch except the bit of bread and butter folded 


128 


JEAN'S OPPORTUNITY. 


ill a piece of newspaper in her shabby bag, and 
which she intended to nibble “on the sly” 
sometime, when the ladies’ waiting-room was 
not very crowded. Instead, she was having a 
good, hot “ dinner,” as she would call it ; cof- 
fee and all; and then ice cream to cool olf 
with. 

hTo wonder she thought Jean was right and 
she could see better when they got back to 
that remnant counter. 

“ This is blue, yes,” Jean said, to the des- 
ignated piece, “ but it is a very sickly shade ; 
and faded too in streaks.” 

“ Is it for Lottie ? ” put in Ethel. “ Oh, that 
isn’t pretty enough for her lovely hair. She 
is in my Sunday-school class, you know ; and 
just as cunning as can be.” 

^lot even the good dinner had lightened 
the sister’s face^like that. If one is plain one’s 
self how it does delight the heart to have a 
pretty brother or sister. 

“Have not you something in this same 
quality and price, but a better shade ? ” asked 
Jean of the clerk. 

“ Perhaps so, miss ; I will look.” 

The result was, that from some obscure hid- 
ing-place a “ short length ” was brought out 
and decided by all to be “just the thing.” 
Then from the ribbon basket another purchase 


OTHER GIRLS. 


129 


was made. Ethel’s quick fingers fashioned a 
bow or two from different w'idths of ribbon 
and shading tints, so that the slender purse 
was able to take advantage of reductions and 
have the longed-for pretty thing for the 
younger sister. Then the clerk found a box 
for the dainty bows and the girls separated. 

At early evening of that day, a very 
crowded train drew out from the large city 
station, on its way north, taking in Williston 
and the many intervening stopping places “ en 
route.” Jean and Ethel were fortunate in 
coming early and securing a place in the mid- 
dle of the car, where Ethel, who had a hard 
headache, leaned back by the window and 
closed her eyes. 

Just at the last moment a crowd of girls, 
evidently working girls, came laughing and, 
with much loud talking, rushing up the steps 
and through the open door, and, for lack of 
accommodation, stood in the aisle, braced 
against the seats or swaying with every mo- 
tion of the car. 

“ What does this mean ? ” called one girl 
who had come in earlier. “ Where’s your 
trolley ? ” 

“ On a block,” one spoke up quickly. “ Some- 
thing’s happened to the bridge ; may stand 
still two hours.” 


130 


JEAN'S OPPORTUNITY. 


The bell rang out loudly, the conductor 
called ‘‘ all aboard,” and with one groan, as 
though dreading its work, the long train rolled 
out from the gathering dimness of the great 
brick walls, and found that it was still bright- 
ness and sunlight in the open. 

“ Thankful we only have three miles to 
Lanesburg,” said a girl standing just behind 
Jean. “Dear knows, I’m tired enough of 
standing all day without paying a railroad 
company for the privilege of doing any more 
of it.” 

“Hasn’t it been just awful?” said a com- 
panion, flourishing a fan as vigorously as cir- 
cumstances admitted. 

“It has in at Whitcomb’s, sure,” was the 
reply. “And they always manage to select 
the worst days possible for ‘bargain days.’ 
Ought to have seen the crowd we had to-day. 
Mercy ! if I had money in my purse, you 
wouldn’t see me so anxious to save a quarter 
as to rush out with the thermometer at 
ninety in the shade, and work all day to do 
it. I’d lie still and go without, first, that’s 
all.” 

“ Ah, but you ought to see when we get up 
a sale at the ten cent store. Had one last 
week. Had a hundred cups and saucers for 
the drawing cards. My ! didn’t the ladies pour 


OTHER GIRLS. 


131 


in though ! Nine deep, at my counter steady, 
and fifteen some of the time. And how they 
pulled and hauled! Great ladies them was. 
Faugh I ” 

“ Say 1 Marne Edson fainted, up in the suit 
room to-day,” put in another. 

“ Ain’t fit to be there, anyway ; just out of 
the hospital,” returned the first speaker. “ Dis- 
charged only three days ago.” 

“ What is she in for then ? ” 

“ Says it must be that or starve ; and she 
kind o’ hates to do that, you know. Truth is, 
there ain’t any place for folks just out of hos- 
pitals ; and they’re about as fit to work as a 
sick cat. The world’s pretty crooked any- 
how. Look at Marne! Ain’t a better girl 
living ; will work all day, and watch all night 
with a sick mate ; and when her turn comes, 
must just work right along or starve. ’Tain’t 
fair, anyway.” 

“ Couldn’t stand so long, could she ? ” asked 
another. 

‘‘I don’t know; don’t suppose she’d had 
more’n three courses for breakfast at that 
place where she boards ; and then the heat. 
But the final upset came just before noon, 
when one of your fine ladies, all done up in 
starch and lace, didn’t like what she showed 
her and spoke it out dreadful short, just as 


132 


JEAN’S OPPORTUNITY. 


though Marne was to blame ; and she was all 
shaking with weakness, and she just sarsed 
back.” 

“ Good for her ! ” exclaimed one. “ Look at 
the way some of ’em talk to us. As though 
we hadn’t any business with a tongue in our 
heads. Now, I’ve been at the lace counter 
three years, and if there’s one place more’n 
another where ladies’ll just show themselves 
out it’s there. And I know something about 
lace by this time ; and I can’t bear to see a lady 
throwing away her money on what ain’t the 
proper thing, but my ! just let me put in a 
word of advice once; wouldn’t I be told to 
shut up ? and not over-politely, either.” 

“Never knew Marne to do such a thing 
before, though,” resumed the first speaker. 
“ She’s as much a lady as any one of ’em any 
time, and got a sight softer voice than most. 
And the walker heard it, and I tell you he 
gave it to her, high and mighty. Marne never 
said a word, but when he’d gone she broke 
down and tried to cry, but fainted instead; 
and Miss Smith, she just put her down in the 
corner, and cushions behind her, and sent for 
a cup of tea and sandwiches.” 

“ Did she stay all day ? ” 

“Yes, but she won’t stand it long. She’ll 
be back in the hospital before many days, and 


OTHER GIRLS. 


133 


perhaps she won’t trouble ’em to discharge 
her again.” 

The engine shrieked, the bell clanged, the 
brakeman at the door shouted “Lanesburg,” 
while the revolving wheels creaked and the 
heavy train jerked itself to a stop ; the crowd 
in the aisle moved toward the door. 

“Was it an old lady that scolded her?” 
asked the other. 

“E’aw. One of your fine young sprigs; 
like us, only different ; all in white with bits 
of black stuck around on her. Mebbe a widow. 
Who knows ? ” 

Jean had idly listened to it all; it had 
amused her a little. But now, — when the sud- 
den shock had had time to reach her entire 
consciousness, she was thoroughly aroused. 
Could it be possible that “other girl” had 
been herself ? 

She turned quickly, and almost rose. But 
that was useless. The train hardly waited for 
the last girl to step off before starting again, 
and the noisy, laughing crowd were half 
across the platform already. She could not 
tell which girls had been speaking, in any 
case. 

With as thorough a disgust for herself as 
she had ever known, Jean sat down to “chew 
the cud ” of unpleasant meditation. 


CHAPTEK IX. 


SECOND THOUGHTS. 

‘‘ Foe the land’s sake,” Kinda exclaimed to 
her spouse the next morning, after an early 
summons and message at their door, “ what’s 
up now, I wonder? Young folks do beat all 
the world. They’re here one minute, and no- 
Avhere the next, a-disarranging everything. A 
dreadful pity folks don’t be born old to begin 
with ; ” and the good woman’s portly form 
shook with a mirth that belied her words. 

But Cousin Wealthy, with her usual habit, 
kept her thoughts to herself when Jean again 
made her appearance at the breakfa.st-table 
with a fresh suit of white, and the “ bit of 
black stuck here and there.” 

“Away again this morning, Jean?” 

“Yes, cousin. In some way I dropped out 
the best chance I had yesterday, and I am 
going back to see if I can pick it up.” 

“ Back before night ? ” 

“ I shall tell Mark to come to the two-ten. 
If possible, I shall be on that. And I may 
bring some one with me, cousin.” 

“ Yery well. Shall I wait dinner ? ” 

134 


SECOND THOUGHTS. 


135 


“ No, I will lunch in town.” 

It was a more quiet and thoughtful ride to- 
day. In the early morning the train rushed 
along by the pastures where cows, their morn- 
ing meal cropped, lay lazily napping under the 
trees ; over swift brooks that tumbled down 
their stony beds ; through quiet glints of 
woody spaces, until the noisy city was again 
reached. Here it was just as heated and dusty 
as the day before. Jean stopped by a group 
of children playing at marbles in a shade of 
about a yard square, and pitied them. 

‘‘ Children ought to be brung up in the coun- 
try, ef they don’t have fathers nor mothers nor 
nothing else but grass and trees,” Kinda had 
observed one day. 

Jean thought of that now. “I am not sure 
but Mother Nature would do as well by them 
as the real mothers,” she said, noting the pale, 
sickly faces, sharp and grimy. 

The great store seemed close as ever ; the air 
had not freshened much during the night ; and 
the same crowds, Jean almost thought they 
were the same faces, greeted her as before. 

But she was not interested in the counters 
to-day. She passed them by v/ith a glance, 
and went straight up the stairs to the suit 
room. But once there, her step became slower, 
and at a little distance from the bargain coun- 


136 


JEAN'S OPPORTUNITY. 


ter where she had stopped the previous morn- 
ing, she paused, and half concealed by a draped 
figure, looked beyond. 

Yes, she was there ; the young girl who had 
waited on her, not busy just at this moment, 
and leaning wearily on a pile of goods on the 
counter. Jean took a long look at her ; noted 
that there was as much color in the white 
goods as in her pale face ; and how thin it was ; 
and the expression, the pose, everything, spoke 
of such utter hopelessness. And yet the mouth 
had sweet lines ; and her voice, as she answered 
another girl, Jean noticed how soft and gentle 
it was. 

“ Is Miss Smith here ? ” Jean asked, presently, 
of a girl quite at the end of the counter. 

‘‘ The forelady, do you mean ? ” 

“ Yes.’’ 

“ Yes, she is. Can’t I wait on ye, miss ? ” 

“ It is a little matter of business I Avould like 
to see Miss Smith for,” Jean ansAvered. But 
she did not assume the “dignity” that she 
Avould once have done ; even took thought to 
smile at the girl. “Perhaps she was afraid 
some fault Avas to be found Avith her.” 

Miss Smith came promptly, Avith thin and 
rather care-Avorn, but very kindly face. 

“ Can I talk Avith you a moment alone ? ” 
Jean asked, and the “forelady” led the Avay 


SECOND THOUGHTS. 


137 


to a lounge in the furnishing department, where 
the two sat down. 

“You have a clerk in your department by 
the name of Marne Edson?” Jean said, ques- 
tioningly. 

“ Yes, miss ” 

Jean drew out her card and handed it to 
her ; “ I forgot,” she said. “ Has Miss Edson 
been in the hospital ? ” 

“Yes, only out a few days since,” with 
aroused interest. 

“ She fainted yesterday ? ” 

“Yes; she is not at all fit for work. But 
she does not know what to do. She has been 
in the hospital for six weeks, and all that time 
the rent of her room has been running on ; of 
course the landlady cannot hold rooms for 
nothing ; and I fancy, after paying that, the 
girl had hardly a cent left. Her salary is not 
large at best and she is never very strong. It 
was only overwork that brought on neuralgia 
of the stomach, that was her illness, and now 
the doctors say she must be careful. But there 
isn’t any place for girls called convalescent, 
they are sent out long before they are strong 
enough to work. The hospitals are not to 
blame ; they must take the worst cases. Miss 
Edson boards as cheaply as she can, and of 
course there is nothing for a sick appetite at a 


138 


JEAN'S OPPORTUNITY. 


cheap boarding-house. I wished I could take 
her home with me, but mother, and an invalid 
sister, and myself all live in three rooms, and 
only have my wages to live on ; though I 
don’t know why I have told you that, I am 
sure,” with a smile; it was the girl’s eager 
eyes that had drawn her on. 

“Thank you for it,” Jean answered, cor- 
dially. “ Miss Smith — I want to ask you — do 
you think ? — that the floor walker’s scolding 
caused Miss Edson’s fainting, yesterday ? ” 

Miss Smith looked at her in surprise. 
“ How did you know that ? ” she asked. “ Ho, 
I do not. Hunger and heat caused that.” 

“Because,” went on Jean, frankly, “I was 
the one who spoke to her rudel}^, and then 
when she answered back I called her ‘ imper- 
tinent,’ and he heard me, and I suppose went 
directly for her. I heard the girls in the car 
talking about it last night. Miss Smith, and I 
have come here to-day from Williston to see 
Avhat I can do to make up for my thoughtless- 
ness.” 

Miss Smith looked at the flushed, eager face, 
and her own eyes shone with feeling. “I 
should be very glad to have Marne And some 
friend,” she said. “ She is quite pretty when 
well, and. Miss Hallock, you girls safely shel- 
tered in homes cannot know the temptations 


SECOND THOUGHTS. 


139 


that come to such. It is so hard to work day 
after day with nothing else to look forward 
to. I have been at the head of this depart- 
ment for ten years, and I have had many a 
heartache for homeless girls. And Maine is 
as good a girl as ever was ; and I never knew 
of her doing a disrespectful thing before. 
But, Miss Hallock, the ladies who only make 
shopping a pastime cannot dream what the 
other side of it is to the girls who stand be- 
hind the counter, no matter how they may be 
feeling, all day.” 

Miss Smith was so evidently the gentle, re- 
fined lady herself, that Jean found her own 
heart going out to her. 

“ Do you think I could persuade Miss Edson 
to go out to the country with me for a 
while ? ” she asked. 

“ It would be her salvation, if you could,” 
Miss Smith answered, warml}^ 

“But she will be too independent, you 
fear?” queried Jean. 

“You cannot blame her. Miss Hallock,” 
Miss Smith returned. “ Their independence is 
all these girls have to assert themselves with.” 

“And could she be spared without losing 
her place?” Jean asked, presently. 

“ I would attend to that,” the “ forelady ” 
answered. “ It is mostly dull now, anyway.” 


140 


JEAN'S OPPORTUNITY. 


Jean was thoughtfully silent for a few min- 
utes, and then briefly explained the “ academy 
idea,” as Ethel called it, and what she was do- 
ing. “ If I can get her to go there,” Jean con- 
cluded, “ she will find both rest, and change of 
scene and air.” 

“ I should think it would be heaven itself,” 
the “ forelady ” returned, so eagerly that a new 
thought sprang at once into Jean’s mind. 

Why, to have no care for one week even ! 
and to know that somebody else was caring 
for you ; and to have a yard, and trees, and 
mountains beside ! I cannot see how any one 
could refuse it ! I think your best way. Miss 
Hallock,” Miss Smith resumed after a moment, 
‘‘ will be, simply to tell Marne just as you have 
told me. I am sure she cannot refuse you.” 

Please send her here, then,” Jean said. “ I 
will try my powers of persuasion.” But for 
the few moments of waiting she was not very 
confident in them. “I would not accept a 
favor from any one who had been rude to 
me,” she thought. 

She saw Miss Edson coming toward her at 
last. How pale and thin she was ; and how 
slowly she walked as though weary even at 
that early hour. But the girl’s face flushed, 
and her slender figure straightened when she 
saw who had called for her. 


SECOND THOUGHTS. 


141 


Jean did not wait for the other to speak ; she 
held in her hand a beautiful, swaying bunch of 
La France roses, and as the girl hesitated, and 
half turned, she stepped to her quickly. 

“Miss Edson,” she said, simply, “I have 
come here this morning to apologize for my 
rudeness to you yesterday ; I had no right to 
criticise the things you offered me. Will you 
please take these roses, and say you forgive 
me ? ’’ 

Marne’s hand went half out, then fell again. 
“Well, I hadn’t any right to answer as I did 
either ; I never did so before ; I guess I was 
too tired to know what I was saying,” and her 
voice trembled. “But I can’t take those 
handsome roses ; I never had such a bunch in 
my life.” 

“ Oh, yes you can ! And sit right down 
here and let me tell you what I have been 
thinking of.” And in five minutes more Jean 
found herself talking just as rapidly and easily 
to this strange girl as though she had known 
her for months ; telling of the academy home 
first ; of the Parsons tribe, from Jaky to the 
sick baby ; of old Lady Bly ; and of the rooms, 
ready and waiting, for new guests. And, if 
there had been any constraint in the other 
girl’s manner at first, it was soon melted away, 
and she said, as Miss Smith had done. 


142 


JEAN^S OPPORTUNITY. 


“ How lovely it must all be ! ” 

“ You see,” Jean went on, “ when I first be- 
gan, it was my idea to offer it all to the Fresh 
Airs ; but of course they have to consider, and 
plan, and I am not sure but I shall constitute 
a society of my own and do the work without 
them. But I have wanted above all things, to 
give some girls this home, and rest, and I did 
not see how to get at them. How, Miss Ed- 
son, if you will help me, I think I can do it.” 

“I! How?” 

“ By going out and growing strong there 
yourself, and then helping me find others. I 
have thought of one other already, if I can 
only get her.” 

Who ? ” for Jean’s eyes invited questions. 

‘‘ Miss Smith.” 

“ O, Miss Hallock, would she ? I would 
do anything for her. She is so good, and she 
has such hard times.” 

“ Do not say anything about that at present, 
please. Will you go home with me then this 
afternoon? and the rest will follow in good 
time.” 

And after a moment of hesitation Marne 
said, “ Yes, I will, and be glad, too. Miss 
Hallock.” And then her face was lost for a 
moment in the fragrant roses. “ May I give 
these to Miss Smith?” she asked, when the 


SECOND THOUGHTS. 


143 


head was lifted again. “I will be having 
so much that I can spare them as well as not.” 

When Jean reached the station a little be- 
fore train time that afternoon, Marne Edson 
was in waiting, though she did not at first see 
her, sitting in a shaded corner beyond the 
window, for two of her own acquaintances 
from the city chanced to be there to see a 
friend off. The four made a pretty group ; in 
their trim, stylish suits, natty hats and boots, 
and dainty bags. 

Marne Edson from her secluded corner 
watched them a little enviously, for, we may 
just as well admit right here, that a trifle of 
morbid jealousy had become ingrained by the 
hard circumstances of her life into this shop 
girl’s nature. 

As she noticed their well-bred manner, their 
quiet tones, she grew bitter. “I never can 
be like them, anyway,” she thought ; ‘‘ they 
don’t act as though they ever had a care in 
their lives. Nobody can seem like that that 
has to worry and work all the time.” 

Then she glanced at her own soiled, half- 
worn gloves, at her cotton waist so poorly 
laundered, and wished to the bottom of her 
heart that she had had the common sense to 
pull off the faded limpsy feather that adorned 
her hat, as she had thought of doing. 


144 


JEAN'S OPPORTUNITY. 


Jean wished so too when the bell rang, and 
Maine was obliged to rise and present herself. 
But it did not trouble her thought long. She 
put Marne in a seat by the window, sat down 
beside her, opened a box of bonbons, and then 
busied herself in pointing out the various 
places of interest they passed. When Willis- 
ton was almost reached, the girl had grown 
very silent, and glancing at her Jean saw that 
her face was turned toward the mountains, 
and that now and then, the hand, from which 
the soiled glove had been taken, was drawn 
across the eyes, and she left her to herself. 

“ Around by the academy, Mark,” Jean said, 
when she came with her companion to the 
surrey. “Will you go home with me a little 
while first ? ” she had asked, but Marne had 
said quickly — “IN’o, thank you. Let me go 
right to my own place first.” 

Now, when Jean took her up the stairs and 
into the small, neat room next to Mrs. Bly’s, 
looking off to the mountains, the girl’s face 
took on a look of rest. “ I haven’t seen any- 
thing like this since I was a little girl, and used 
to go with mama out to grandpa’s in the 
country,” she said. 

And Jean made her lie down, and promise 
to rest for a half hour, and then left her well 
satisfied with her own day’s work. 


SECOND THOUGHTS. 


145 


“ Yes,” Cousin Wealthy said when Jean told 
her of it, “ if you’re going to do anything 
worth while with folks, you’ve just got to let 
them think they’re doing something too. 
That’s the only way to bring the best out of 
people. Let that girl think now, that she can 
do something for Miss Smith, or some of those 
other forlorn folks down there in that God- 
forsaken city, and you’ve got the whip hand 
of her, as men folks say. She’ll do what you 
want her to. Why, bless you, Jean, we all 
like to be leaned on ; every one on us ; it’s hu- 
man natur’. Give these poor things that 
never have had a chance to do a rap for any- 
body else, an opportunity ; let ’em hear a 
‘ thank you,’ themselves, and you’ve done more 
for ’em than doctor’s pills or plasters ; a sight 
more.” 

And having thus freely expressed her mind, 
Cousin Wealthy, as usual, knew the right time 
to stop. 


CHAPTEE X. 


MAME EDSON. 

In spite of her intention not to do such a 
thing, Marne Edson feli asleep almost at once, 
with her face raised on the pillow to view the 
fair picture framed in by her window. She 
slept long and heavily too, until roused by the 
supper bell rung by Maggie in the basement. 
Then she followed two of the little Parsons 
girls to the supper-room. 

Jean had had a partition run across the long 
dining-room of former days dividing it into 
two parts ; the smaller of which, next to the 
kitchen, answered all present purposes of din- 
ing-room. 

Marne was almost stupid after her excite- 
ment and heavy sleep, and her head ached, but 
the tidily-served supper of white bread and 
berries and chipped beef, plain cake and tea, 
looked and tasted refreshing, and she ate 
heartily. There was not much said. The 
Parsons children had been brought up in an 
atmosphere of repression, and the mother was 
too busy in attending to their material needs. 

When the meal was over Marne went back 


146 


MAME EDSON. 


147 


to her own room, and in the softly dropping 
twilight sank restfully upon her pillows again 
for the night. It all seemed like a dream still ; 
those of the night could hardly be more un- 
real. 

“Just to fancy! I never thought of such 
a thing last night at this time,” was her last 
conscious imagining. “How my back did 
ache then ! Why, it seems as though I could 
sleep and sleep forever, with no dreadful store 
to hurry off to.” 

Nevertheless she woke quite another person 
in the morning ; with no headache, and con- 
sciously refreshed after her long rest. The 
bright sunlight seemed to be giving her a wel- 
come, so different in the bowery greenness 
from that reflected from staring brick walls ; 
and every drop of dew twinkled up to her its 
welcome. There was an “ at home ”-ness 
about things this morning. She said “ Good- 
morning,” to Mrs. Parsons, and smiled at the 
youngest girl when she and her plate nearly 
fell off their chair together; and nodded so 
brightly to Jaky when she met him coming 
out of Mrs. Ely’s room with a plate, that the 
boy, who was rather susceptible to pretty 
things, forgot to move, or close his mouth, for 
at least a minute after. 

The first thing that she did after putting 


143 


JEAN^S OPPORTUNITY. 


her room in order was to sit down by the 
window, hat in hand, and remove the faded 
feather. “ I don’t know why,” she mused to 
herself, ‘‘ that all seemed well enough in those 
dusty streets, and just going out in the even- 
ing to some crowd, but it looked dreadful 
common after seeing Miss Ilallock’s hat with 
just those knots on it. And yet they had the 
air. And here, when you look at the green 
outside and then at this, it just makes me sick. 
I wonder if there are many more rich girls 
like her, anyway ? ” Then to a train of 
thought that was not made audible, she added 
— “ I guess if there were, there wouldn’t be so 
many silly poor girls, so there.” And the hat 
in its relieved plainness was placed on her 
head, and the girl walked downstairs and out 
the front door. The lower step was warm 
and yet shaded, and she sat there for some 
time, watching Tom, who was busily clipping 
the edges of the graveled walk. 

“ I suppose I may as well have a good time 
while I can,” the girl thought; “they don’t 
come very often in my life, that’s sure. What 
makes you so particular about cutting every 
blade just so even ? ” she asked the man, pres- 
ently. 

“ The missus likes it so,” Tom answered, 
simply. 


MAME EDSON. 


149 


“ I wonder if she must have everything just as 
she likes it ? the rest of us don’t,” with a little 
of the old discontent rising within her. 

She got up and went around the long build- 
ing. There was a shadow on the morning 
brightness now. 

Under a spreading tree at the back four of 
the Parsons girls were playing. Marne went 
and sat down beside them. They had a large 
leaf partly filled with overripe, juicy berries, 
that they were stringing on long grasses and 
then bending into circles and tying. 

“ What are you doing that for ? ” Marne 
asked. 

‘‘ To give to Miss Hallock,” the oldest one 
of the group answered. “ Here, you Tilly ! ” 
to the baby, “ don’t you eat a single one. You 
have a’ready,” pointing to the telltale stains 
on lip and chin. 

“ Why not let her have them ? ” interposed 
the newcomer. ‘‘ Miss Hallock can get all the 
berries she wants, I guess.” 

The child looked at her wonderingly. 
“’Tain’t that,” she said. “It’s ’cause she’s 
give us lots, and lots, and we want to give her 
something back ; Hattie and I do, don’t we, 
Hattie ? ” 

“ Yes, we does,” piped the next in order. 

“ ’Sides,” went on the first speaker, “ Jaky 


150 


JEAN'S OPPORTUNITY, 


told US to do it ; and some of ’em’s for Ma’am 
Bly, too. Tilly oughter be ’shamed, so she 
had.” At which the offending babe set up a 
wail of despair, joined in by the next larger, 
until Tryphena, with a glance at the stone 
walls of the house as if to see if they had ears, 
hastily dropped her dripping string, and reach- 
ing out her deeply dyed fingers, gathered into 
her embrace the two weeping penitents, un- 
mindful that a string of the jetty fruit was also 
held in the crushing embrace. 

When quiet Avas restored and peace had 
settled upon all parties, Marne resumed her 
questioning. “ Do you have good times 
here ? ” she asked. 

“ I guess Ave does,” returned Phena. “ Why, 
Ave has enough to eat all the time.” 

“ And didn’t you before ? ” 

“ I guess not often.” 

“Why, I didn’t know that people eAmr Avent 
hungry in the country,” Marne returned, in 
surprise. * 

“Well, they does then, don’t they, Hattie? 
And dad licked us, too, didn’t he, Hattie ? ” 

“ Is your father dead ? ” asked Marne. 

“ Don’t knoAv. Hope so,” Avas the filial 
Avish, “ don’t you, Hattie ? ” to which an em- 
phatic nod Avas the ansAver. “ AnyAvay, he’s 
cleared out, ‘ cut sticks,’ Mrs. Carr says, but I 


MAME EDSON, 


151 


don’t know where, I’m sure ; he never cut 
many to home ; Jaky had them all to do, 
didn’t he, Hattie ? ” 

After all,” thought Marne, with an amused 
smile, “ there isn’t so much difference between 
children wherever they may live. What is your 
name, sissie ? ” she asked of the baby of the 
group, who, released from her sister’s embrace, 
sat now bolt upright, with china blue eyes 
staring amid the pasty surroundings of ber- 
ries, and dust, and tears, her flaxen hair, like 
a dulled aureole, framing the whole. 

‘‘ Her name is Matilda Maria,” volunteered 
the maternal sister. 

And mine is Aunt Eoxy,” piped up the 
next, “ and I is four years old last May.” 

“What does she mean?” asked the ques- 
tioner. 

“ Oh, she has heard ma say she was named 
for Aunt Eoxy, and so she always says that is 
her name,” was the explanation. 

“ And yours is Hattie ? ” Marne said to the 
second, and prettiest girl, who only smiled 
shyly in return. 

“ Yes,” again from the eldest, “and mine is 
Tryphena Lovisa, for my two grandmothers ; 
and there’s one more, Belinda ; she’s the 
biggest of all; and then there’s Jaky, and 
Max.” 


152 


JEAN^S OPPORTUNITY, 


“ Quite a family of you,” Marne said, rising. 
“ I guess I will go and walk now.” 

“We’d go with you,” Phena returned, 
graciously, “only Jaky told us not to stir out 
from under this tree after we’d got our ber- 
ries, and we dass’n’t.” 

“All right! I’m thankful to Jaky, I am 
sure,” she added to herself when safely bej^ond 
hearing. 

Behind the academy the ground rose 
steadily, and more and more steeply, through 
three or four fields, until it was lost in the 
fringing edge of bushes that marked the moun- 
tain proper. 

Prom this point rose the bold and lofty out- 
lines of the single mountain, a landmark for 
many miles, covered from base to summit with 
thick woods, that, in the fall time, would be 
one magnificent blaze of glor}^, but now, Avas 
only varied by differing shades of green. 

Marne found a mossy hollow among some 
rocks, just Avithin the green line. Kear her, a 
tiny stream tumbled over its stony bed. A 
little Avay to her right Avas the carriage road 
that Avound up to Table Eock, a rocky ledge 
half Avay up the slope, and then on to Summit 
House, a favorite summer resort on the table- 
land at the top, Avith its croquet grounds and 
ten-pin alley. She could hear the frequent 


31 ABIE ED SON. 


153 


tramp of horses’ hoofs now, and the merry 
voices of pleasure seekers. 

But aside from these, few sounds broke the 
stillness of that upper world. Some men were 
at work in a field below but she could not 
hear their voices. A hazy mist, like the filmi- 
est of veils, just softened the sun’s rays, and 
the outlines of distant buildings. 

It was just the morning, when, if one has a 
mind well stored with poems, they will drift 
naturally to the thought. 

Unfortunately, Marne Edson had not. She 
had been brought up amid the sternest prose 
of life. Her mother had run away from a 
countr}^ home when only nineteen years of 
age, and married a city clerk in a small store. 
The glamour did not last long ; his fashionable 
clothes and city airs had fascinated her ; she 
found they covered the selfish and dissipated 
image of manhood. Her parents died, and 
she had no refuge to turn to, when he grew 
abusive to her, and Marne, their one child. 
She had not many tears to shed when he died 
from a fever in the hospital. She had to save 
her eyes for the close sewing on collars that 
kept the two left from starvation. But she 
Avas a sloAv Avorkwoman, skilled in nothing, 
and had little time or strength to give to the 
training of her child. Marne greAV up Avith 


154 


JEAN^S OPPORTUNITY. 


little schooling, and at an early age went into 
a store as cash girl. Her mother died while 
Marne was still in her teens, and she had been 
alone since. From her father she had inher- 
ited her pleasing manner and voice ; from her 
mother’s ancestors, more real character than 
either parent had possessed ; though it had 
had no opportunity of development as yet. 
How, the spirit of poesy, that is a dreaming 
mood, came over her. 

She wondered idly, hoAV it would seem to 
have no other aim in life than just to follow 
out her own fancy as she was doing this morn- 
ing. She looked at her hands folded in her 
lap, and turned them over and smiled at them. 
“ I am glad you are having one good time in 
your life,” she said to them. Then she took’ 
the pins from her hair, and shook out the 
pretty, brown coils, and threaded them with 
her fingers. You may hang there,” she said, 
“ and let the sun kiss you for once, and the 
Avind blow through you.” It Avas the spirit of 
poesy and of nature, speaking in the long 
starved heart. 

“ Oh, I Avish I could take you all in ! ” she 
said once, stretching out her arms toAvard the 
Avide reaches of valley and hill. “ I wish ! I 
Avish I could carry you back Avith me ! ” 

It Avas the same feeling that a highly cul- 


MAME ED SON. 


155 


tured girl has when she stands before one of 
the great pictures that has moved the world, 
and stirred the depths of her own heart ; the 
same longing to carry with her its gift and 
blessing. 

Once she leaned her head against a tree 
trunk and fell asleep, and woke with a start, 
and wondering, 

“IIow hot it is in the store now,” she 
thought, as the sun neared its zenith, “ and 
how tired everybody is getting. And I sup- 
pose I have got to go back to it in a few days 
again. I don’t know as there was any use in 
my stopping ; it will be all the harder going 
back again. Oh, I can’t understand it ! I 
can’t,” as a trill of girlish laughter came to 
her ear from the carriage road, “why some 
have all the good times, and some, none ; ” and 
her head was bent upon her hands, and the 
hot, bitter tears came thick and fast, and the 
slender figure shook with sobs. But only for 
a moment. ISTo one could long resist such 
messengers of beauty about her ; and youth is 
hopeful. Thank God for that. 

“ It’s only because I’ve been sick and am not 
strong yet,” she apologized to herself with 
lifted face. “ I did not use to feel like this. 
I’ve had lots of good times in the store ; and 
fun in the evenings, too,” a little more slowly. 


156 


JEAN'S OPPORTUNITY. 


“And I guess I should think it was poky 
enough if I had to sit around like this all the 
time. And so still, too. My ! Kitty Janies 
would have a conip tion fit in no time to be in 
such a still place. But I’d better be going, I 
guess ; that Maggie said they had dinner at 
twelve ; and I fancy I’ll be hungry enough for 
it.” 

She rose, then stooped again to pick up her 
handkercliief, and as she lifted herself was 
aware of a rustling in the bushes near, that 
made her start, and turn quickly. There, not 
ten yards from her, stood a man ; a seedy, un- 
kempt, trampish specimen ; Marne thought 
quickly of the men at work in sight. 

But her neighbor did not seem anxious to 
disturb her. Only to get out of sight. He 
bent his face quickly away from her, and pull- 
ing aside some bushes, was lost at once among 
their foliage. And Marne, with quickened 
step, turned down the hill. 

“ Do you have such things as tramps around 
here ? ” she asked of Mrs. Parsons whom she 
found just sitting down to the dinner-table. 

“ Why, yes, I used to see them down on the 
mountain road sometimes.” 

Then Maine recounted her adventure, to 
which the mother gave what attention she 
could with the many clamoring on her. But 


MAME EDSON. 


157 


as Marne ended, “ And isn’t it funny, liow 
you will notice some little thing? Now, this 
man, when he turned, I noticed he had a patch 
just as grey as could be, on the elbow of the 
blue military coat he had on ; some old sol- 
dier, I suppose.” 

She Avondered at Mrs. Parsons’ sudden ani- 
mation of manner, and the quick question that 
folloAved. ‘‘What sort of a looking man av as 
he, Miss Edson ? ” 

“Oh, a slim, limpsy sort; looked hungry 
and dirty, as much as anything ; and carried 
one arm like this on his hip, as though stiff. 
Did you eA^er see him, Mrs. Parsons?” 

“ No, of course not ; ’tain’t A^ery likely,” 
Avith a return to her indifference, and to the 
children Avho had been engaged in a lively 
contest Avhile their mother’s attention Avas 
elsewhere. 

“ Ma, you’ve buttered both sides of Hattie’s 
bread to Avonst, and mine not at all,” com- 
plained Phena, in a Avhining draAvl that seemed 
natural to all. “ Where’s Jaky, ma? ” 

“ He’s a doing for Ma’am Bl3^” 

“He said he’d make me a cart some day; 
and he Avent aAvay and didn’t come again at 
all,” put in Hattie. 

If Marne had had other company she Avould 
probably have held herself above the ignorant 


158 


JEAN^S OPPORTUNITY. 


Mrs. Parsons and her nntidy brood, but as it 
was, they amused her, and she found herself 
23romising to make a body for a doll, lacking- 
in that important part, “ sometime.” 

“I hope it won’t be one of Jaky’s ‘some- 
times,’ ” remarked Phena, in an audible whis- 
per. 

But the walk and the sun had been too much 
for her, and once in her own room, Maine’s 
only wish was to shut the light entirely out, 
bind her aching head in a wet cloth, and 
place it as low as she could among the pil- 
lows. And again the blessed restorer, sleep, 
that the worn-out girl so sadly needed, saved 
her. “ I should have been back to the hospital 
by this time, I guess, if I had stayed in the 
store,” was her last conscious thought. 

Just before supper time she roused herself 
and went to the kitchen to fill her pitcher. 

“Miss Hallock came to see you this morn- 
ing whiles you was out beyond,” said Maggie. 

“ She did ? Oh, that was too bad ! ” 

“ Yes, and she was that sorry, too. She 
left word she couldn’t come again to-da}^, 
’cause she was going out, but she hoped you 
was feeling better, and she’d be seeing you 
soon. And she lift some books for ye ; I wint 
to your room this afternoon with thim, but 
you did not hear me knock, and whin I saw 


MA3IE EDS ON. 


159 


the room was dark I thought it was aslape ye 
were, and I’d not disturb ye.” 

“ Yes, thank you, I was asleep. Are these 
the books ? ” 

“Yes, miss; I’m sorry I forgot them the 
noontime.” 

Mrs. Parsons was not at the table when 
Marne answered the supper call, after having 
found time for one entrancing, short chap- 
ter of “Faith Gartney.” “Where is your 
mother ? ” she asked of Linda, the most over- 
worked and browbeaten member of the Par- 
sons family circle. Stoop-shouldered from 
lifting the many babies, hollow-eyed, shy and 
shrinking, Marne felt a pity for the child 
who seemed to have known no childhood, 
every time that she looked at her. 

“ Max was cross, and Ma’am Ely had a bad 
turn of roomatics,” was the comprehensive an- 
swer. And -just then Jaky made his appear- 
ance; but it was Jaky made over; with a 
quickness of step seldom seen before, and, ac- 
tually, a smile upon his usually solemn face. 

“AVliere’s ma, girls?” he asked, and the 
same explanation being given, buttered his 
bread in silence for a moment. Then lifting 
his eyes to Marne, he said, gravely, “ I’ve got 
work. Miss Edson.” 

“You have? I’m glad,” Marne, answered, 


160 


JEAN^S OPPORTUNITY 


with the quick sympathy of one who under- 
stood what that meant. “ Where ? ” 

“A¥ith the grocer, Martin, down town. 
He’ll give me fifty cents a day,” with an air 
that made his sisters exclaim, “ Oh, my ! ” 
“ Miss Edson,” he went on after a moment, 
‘‘ won’t that be three dollars for a week ? ” 

“ Yes, just.” 

“ This is the way I got it,” went on the boy ; 
‘‘I said a-half Monday, and a-half Tuesday, 
made one dollar; and then two more days 
made one ; and two more, one ; and they all 
was three ; was that right ? ” 

‘‘ Yes, but couldn’t you say that six halves 
made three whole ones ? ” 

“ Ho, I couldn’t see so much at a time,” the 
boy returned. “I haven’t been to school 
much. I can’t seem to see but one piece at 
once. Miss Edson,” he resumed after a mo- 
ment of silence, ‘‘do you think that would be 
enough to pay for ma’s and Max’s board 
here ? ” 

“ AVhy, perhaps so ; yes.” 

“ Because, you see,” he went on, “ I’d like to 
have ma feel independent again. She was a 
Dean, ma was, and there wa’n’t never one of 
them in the poorhouse or had any help from 
anybody ; I’ve heard ma say so lots of times. 
And then. Max, he’s my boy, and I’d like him 


MAME EDSON. 


161 


to grow up beholden to nobody but me. And 
by and by, I’ll get enough to support the 
girls, too.” And this great heart, this 
chevalier in ragged trousers and no coat, 
reached over for another slice of bread ; and 
Maine, looking further than the tousled hair 
respected the incipient manhood. 

“ I must go in and see Mrs Bly,” Marne 
thought as she came to the upper hall, putting 
away the alluring temptation of her rocking- 
chair beside the window, a seat in it, and the 
story all together. “May I come in?” she 
asked, turning the knob after her rap. 

“ Yes, you may, dearie,” came the answer in 
a faint, tremulous voice. “ I’m suffering just 
now, but I guess I’ll feel better soon.” 

How there was one thing that Marne was 
naturally, and that was, a nurse. In five min- 
utes she had brought warm irons from the 
kitchen, wrapped them up and laid them against 
the aching spots ; in a few minutes more the 
white head was propped on pillows, and a cup of 
hot tea sent up its refreshing fragrance before 
her. “ Why, I feel better a’read}^,” the old lady 
exclaimed ; “ it’s partly nervous, the doctor says, 
and I guess I was faint and hungry a little. 
You see Mrs. Parsons, she tried to do for me, 
but the baby wa’n’t feeling good, poor little 
creature, and she couldn’t stay in. And you’re 


162 


JEAN'S OPPORTUNITY. 


the young lady from the city, are you ? Jaky 
told me about you ; said he liked to look at 
you.” 

Marne blushed rosily ; “I’m from the city, 
yes. I am clerk in a store.” 

“ That’s hard work, isn’t it ? ” 

“Yes, and no; sometimes it is; I like it 
pretty well.” 

“I don’t see where you learned all your 
handy ways with the sick then,” the old lady 
said, as Marne placed her more comfortably 
and cut her bread into bits just right for eat- 
ing. 

“ Oh, I have been sick, too ; in the hospital ; 
and I watched the nurses pretty closely ; I al- 
ways thought it was pretty work.” 

“ And you didn’t know you was sent there 
to learn something good for an old woman like 
me, did you? IIo, you needn’t stay any 
longer; I’m just as comfortable as can be, 
after that hot tea, and all those warm things 
about me. I can go to sleep now I know, 
right off. .Yes, yes, dearie, we never know 
when the Lord is giving us the lessons we can 
do the most with. But he’s alius teaching the 
willing spirit. You come in and see me to- 
morrow, won’t you, dearie ? ” 

“Yes, indeed, if I may. You make me 
think of my dear grandmother who died when 


MAME EDSON. 


163 


I was fourteen. May I call you grandmother 
now ? ” 

And then Marne went to her room, and in 
the twilight seemed to hear again the voice of 
that saintly grandmother, whose image had 
always stood to her for everything good and 
pure that she had known. 

And Ma’am Ely had one more caller before 
she fell asleep. That was Jaky, who came to 
tell her of his good fortune. 

“I knew you’d have it, Jaky,” said the old 
lady. 

“ Why, how ma’am ? who told you ? ” 

“ Nobody ; but I asked the Lord for you. 
Did you, Jaky?” 

“Why, no ma’am. But if I’d known he 
heard a fellow like that I would.” 

“Well, he does. He does, Jaky. He says 
‘ Call upon me, and I will answer.’ Just you 
believe that, Jaky, now and forevermore ; 
once and for all. And I’m so glad for you, 
dearie. You’ve been dreadful kind to me and 
I guess he saw that too.” 


CHAPTEE XI. 


WHAT IS JEAN? 

Up at the “big house,” as Tom called it, 
though his wife, more democratic in her ideas, 
insisted that he lived at the “ big house,” him- 
self, — these were busy days. 

As Mark had said, when our Jean did any- 
thing she did it with her whole heart, and at 
present her leading idea was to have every- 
thing ready to give a charming welcome to the 
Yan Dorms. 

They were coming on Wednesday, and the 
simple awning at the foot of the steps leading 
to the piazza, must be elaborated into a long- 
talked-of porte-cochere ; four men were set to 
work there. Then there was a change desired 
in the windows of the cupola ; some colored 
panes in the place of plain ones ; and another 
man was busy at that ; beside the north cham- 
ber, undergoing a thorough transformation to 
bring it into the line of modern ideas. 

“ I am glad you are going to do this,” Cousin 
Wealthy said one day, looking in. “This 
room always made me shiver ; it was so dark 
and uncanny like. I would run past the door 
164 


WHAT IS JEANf 


165 


if alone, in the evening, when a girl, I mean, 
of course ; I am not so silly now.” 

“ I wonder that I have left it so long,” Jean 
made answer ; ‘‘ but dear papa, in spite of his 
good taste and his liking of modern things, 
yet had a soft place in his heart for this cham- 
ber.” 

“ Perhaps it was really more an awe,” Cousin 
Wealthy returned. “Here is where the hon- 
ored guests used to be placed, and I have heard 
him tell many a time, how fine he felt when 
allowed to come up here with his mother and 
bring the Avarming-pan to put between the 
sheets. Children would never have thought 
of playing here, any more than in the meeting- 
house.” 

“Well, it is gone now,” Jean said, giving a 
tAvitch to a rag of the old paper left, “ how do 
you like the neAV ? ” 

“ Very fine, very fine indeed ! All gilt and 
tinsel,” said a voice at their backs. 

“You here. Auntie Hye?” Jean exclaimed, 
turning to meet the erect and stately dame, 
Avho carried her seventy-eight years Avith al- 
most the grace of a girl. “ Is this desecration 
and vandalism in your eyes ? ” 

“ Ho, no. Miss Jean ; Ethel told me about 
Avhat you Avere doing, and I thought I Avould 
come over and take one more look at the old 


166 


JEAN^S OPPORTUNITY. 


room. I have spent many a pleasant hour 
here with your father’s older sisters; dead 
and gone long ago. But this is not the first 
paper I remember here. That was Washing- 
ton memorial paper, and represented a bier 
carried by four tall figures along an arch of 
weeping willows ; and the colors were black 
and white.” 

“ Cheerful subject for a sleeping-room.” 

“Well, my dear, I think people were not so 
subject to the influences about them in those 
days. They expected things to be, and remain, 
as they were. There was not the constant 
changing, and the fancies were not being con- 
stantly ministered to, as now. The idea of 
changing a paper, unless it was soiled or 
molded, would not have occurred to the house- 
keepers of that day. But the times change as 
well as the people, and I am not going around 
shaking my head and saying the old days were 
the best days. At any rate, not while I am 
bringing up my third set of children.” For, to 
the old Nye homestead, had come first, her 
children, then three orphan grandchildren of 
whom Ethel was the youngest, and now two 
great grandchildren, children of Ethel’s oldest 
sister, for her care. “ Guess I shall keep young, 
until my youngest is in his teens, anyway,” she 
added. “You’ve chosen very pretty paper, 


WHAT IS JEAN? 


167 


my dear, and it will be a lovely room. I^ow, 
as my dear mother, who went away fifty years 
ago, used to say, ‘ Be sure you leave here the 
fragrance of some beautiful thought, that your 
guests finding, shall stow away among the 
treasures of their lives, and that shall send them 
out, stronger and better, for the help of oth- 
ers.’ ” 

“ Oh, how lovely ! ” and the young girl lifted 
moist eyes to the tranquil, elder face. “ Auntie 
ISTye, if I could only be such a woman as you 
are ! ” 

“ 1^0, dear, no ; far from it. Look only to 
the Master, and he will make your life full. 
Now I must go, and look in again some day to 
see the completed work. And, child, Ethel 
thinks you stand a little in awe of this grand 
Miss Yan Dorm. Forget that. Just be your- 
self, and do your everyday duties. It’s 3^our- 
self your friends must love. Make yoiir best 
self for them.” 

Jean remembered her words when the room 
was ready, and the guest soon to come. How 
lovely it Avas ! “ Like the most delicate of car- 

nation pinks,” she said as she stood in the door- 
Avay. Just a flush of color, and delicate tints 
of gold, and creamy draperies ; even the satin 
coverings of bureau and stand painted in the 
most delicate pink Colorado wild flowers. 


168 


JEAN^S OPPORTUNITY. 


“ JS'ot a thing inharmonious,” the girl said, 
straightening the silken “guest’s comforter,” 
“even those shades of glove silk harmonize 
with the rest, l^ow, is there anything lack- 
ing? Let’s see, what was that Auntie hlye 
said ? ‘ the fragrance of some beautiful 

thought.’ That is in that Madonna, certainly, 
and the copy of the ‘ Last Supper.’ But not 
in words. What can I give her? Ah, I 
think I know!” and Jean hastened to her 
own room. 

She was skillful with the brush, and nearly 
always had on hand fancily decked cards of 
her own handiwork. Now she selected one 
in simple gilt borders, and rapidly filled in 
with illuminated letters. She had chosen 
some words that had taken her fancy one day. 

“ Their joy should be to bear his cross and shame, 

Their cure, to pour for other’s wounds a balm ; 

Their rest, to labor grandly ‘ In His Name.’ ” 

She took the completed text, set it on a 
small, white easel, and placed it on the dress- 
ing bureau. Then, with a last glance about 
to decide that all merited the adjective “ Per- 
fect ! ” she went out. 

She paused a moment at the door opposite. 
This room over the library was not quite as 
large, nor was it the carrying out of any one 
plan. Like most guest chambers of pleasant 


WHAT IS JEAN? 


169 


homes, it was the assimilation of various grace- 
ful and hospitable thoughts, until the whole 
spoke of a habit of welcoming that had grown 
old with the family. This was Lena Yan 
Dorm’s room., Jean’s own was back of this, 
looking off toward the lower town, and the 
mountains. She dropped down by the win- 
dow a few moments before it should be time 
to meet her friends. 

It had been a hard and a busy week for 
this girl. For, with the perversity of things, 
often experienced. Cousin Wealthy had been 
disabled ; first, by neuralgia ; then by an ul- 
cerated tooth ; even now her face was swathed 
in flannels, and Jean had had things both 
within and without to look after. 

It is no wonder if the academy had been 
neglected. If baby Max had grown better, 
and Mrs. Ely more rheumatic, and Marne 
Edson used to quiet, without much assistance 
from Jean. “ I can’t do everything,” she said 
to herself when conscience pricked a little. 
“ Do go, Ethel, and keep that girl from being 
homesick,” she had begged of her friend. But 
Ethel met with the same experience as Jean ; 
Marne was out. 

“ She just lives out the doors,” said Maggie, 
“and it’s good for her, it is. I don’t take 
away any full plate from her nowadays.” 


170 


JEAN’S OPPORTUNITY. 


But a letter received that morning demanded 
attention. There had been one little Avork 
not noted, on that day that she brought Marne 
away from the city. The head of the large 
house was well known to Jean’s friends and 
she had not hesitated to seek him and ask a 
favor. 

“Does Miss Smith, the head of the suit 
department, have any vacation, sir ? ” 

“ Why, certainly ; certainly, miss. All my 
employees have.” 

“ Has she had that vacation this year, 
sir ? ” 

“Look at the book, Yernon, and see.” 

“ Yes, sir,” was the report. “ Two weeks 
and one day of time allowed in March, because 
of illness.” 

Jean looked disappointed. “ I was about to 
ask leave of absence for her for a week, at 
least,” she explained. “ It seems to me that 
Miss Smith looks very tired and worn, and as 
though she might break down again.” 

The head of the house was a genial, pleasant 
gentleman ; a man of business, too, and not at 
all oblivious to the fact that the large town 
of Williston, where part of his youth had been 
passed, furnished some of his best customers. 

“ I have noticed, myself. Miss Hallock, that 
Miss Smith looked rather used up, and in need 


JVIIAT IS JEAN? 


171 


of rest. She is a very useful clerk, too. Leave 
the matter with me for a few days, and I will 
see what can be done, and advise you of it.” 

‘‘ You say that Miss Smith’s sister is an in- 
valid ? ” Jean had asked of Marne, on the ride 
home. 

‘‘ Oh, yes ! ” 

“ What is the matter with her ? ” 

“ Spinal trouble.” 

“ Can she walk ? ” 

“Generally, a little. But Miss Smith has 
had a large chair arranged so that she lies 
back in it most of the time.” 

That day when Jean took Marne around to 
the academy, she had glanced into two rooms 
that communicated with one another, on the 
opposite side of the hall. Then she ordered 
Tom to see that they were cleaned, and to put 
doAvn fresh matting. 

The letter to-day was from Mr. Whitcomb, 
and said that Miss Smith could have a rest of 
ten days, beginning with Friday of the present 
week, and that he had so informed her. 

“ She can come on Friday afternoon then,” 
thought Jean. “My best way will be to send 
Marne down Friday morning, and let her help 
them to get off.” The note of invitation was 
already written, and she added this as a post- 
script. 


172 


JEAN’S OPPORTUNITY. 


And then, — though Jean thought rapidly, 
it was as earnest as any she had ever done in 
her life. “ How one thing does open up to 
another,” she mused. “ Now, I never expected 
to go into this thing so deeply the day I first 
looked over the academy. I thought I could 
fit up a few rooms decently, and then give it 
over to some society, and let them take the 
care and burden, while it would be a sort of 
amusement to myself. And here I am, pretty 
near a whole society myself, and seeing more 
and more to do. And I would not care — I 
would rather like it — if it was not for the Yan 
Dorms coming. How Dolly Yan Dorm would 
stare to see me holding the Parsons baby. 
She never seems to see anything common. If 
only Cousin Wealthy were well, I believe I 
would give it all to her care Avhile they Avere 
here. Other people Avould,” defiantly to some 
voice Avithin. 

Then a long, quiet moment, Avhile the sweet 
face greAV more grave and earnest. Then she 
stretched out her hand to a little book that 
she had turned, face doAvn, that morning, 
and read again the Avords she had marked 
then. 


“ This world’s no blot for us, 

Nor blank ; it means intensely, and means good. 
To find its meaning is my meat and drink.” 


WHAT IS JEAN? 


173 


Browning, who understood the battle of 
life, had written this for her need. It lifted 
her to her highest self. She must be true to 
that self. It showed her that what was “ meat 
and drink” a few months since, would not 
satisfy now. Life must mean for her “ good ” ; 
the good that the Spirit gives. 

And then the question that had been wag- 
ing its own fight for the week past in her 
heart, was settled. She must live up to her 
present duty ; do the good that each day of- 
fered, whether those whose commendation she 
desired approved, or not. I^ay, more, she was 
conscious that she had gone a step further, 
and if approval was withheld, it would not 
matter as once. There was a spirit within 
that was becoming a law to itself. 

So the question was settled, and firmly, too. 
Miss Yan Dorm might come now. Jean had 
heard her slightly sneering tones at “ charity,” 
when they had met in foreign lands, the pro- 
cessions of girls in uniform, and faces almost 
as uniform ; or when in a society column she 
had read that, “ Mrs. Fitz and Mrs. Blank were 
at the head of a charity ball, that was intended 
to eclipse all former ones.” 

Well, let the smile, even the suppressed 
scorn be met. She would give all the pleasure 
possible at home, to these favorites of society, 


174 


JEAN^S OPPORTUNITY. 


and of life ; but these others, who were God’s 
children, although “ of the least,” should 
neither be forgotten nor neglected. 

When Cousin Wealthy met her on the 
piazza with the joyful intelligence, — “ Jean, 
it’s broken ; now I’ll be good for something,” 
she thought the girl’s face had never looked 
so sweet. 

“ The Lord bless her,” she said, looking after 
the carriage. “ And I guess he has ; she’s lost 
that nervous look she’s had lately. There’s the 
makings of a dreadful grand woman in that 
girl, and I guess it won’t be lost. Life gener- 
ally brings out such. And it’s astonishing 
how much can be got out of even a poor sub- 
ject if the Lord has a hand in it. Now I’ll 
stir around and amount to something, and 
thank him, too.” 


CHAPTER XII. 


OLD — YET NEW FEIENDS. 

“This girl has matured into a charming 
woman,” was Miss Van Dorm’s thought, as 
she sat in her own gracious womanhood in the 
carriage, and listened to the chatter of the 
younger girls. “ I always liked her, now she 
is something to be admired.” 

“And I am so glad you could come just 
now,” Jean’s bright face was turned from the 
front seat toward her guests. “ This is the 
‘high tide’ of the year at Williston. Of 
course, I do not mean for people only. You 
have seen so many of those that does not mat- 
ter ; and I am not in it anyway, now,” with a 
glance at her black grenadine, “but this is 
Nature’s noontime ; when she strikes twelve 
in the country.” 

“ I am certain you could not offer a more 
delightful prospect,” Miss Van Dorm said, 
gazing out the open sides. “ And, to confess 
the truth, Miss Jean, I think I am tired of 
people ; blessed be a rest from them.” 

There was a note in her words Miss Yan 
Dorm had not intended giving ; but it caught 

175 


176 


JEAN^S OPPORTUNITY. 


Jean’s ear, and she glanced up quickly. Yes, 
the same note was written on the face; 
scarcely observable to a careless eye, but lines 
of unrest, of dissatisfaction. ‘‘ Do you know,” 
she added, with a smile for Jean’s look, “ I 
love the mountains more than the sea ? They 
mean more to me. They tell of quietness; 
their greatness calms one’s own unrest ; speaks 
to you of strength, sufficient and satisfying. 
Yes, I love the mountains, and I have not 
tarried among them since I was in the Alps. 
Of course I hav^e passed through the Kockies, 
and seen the snowy peaks of the west, but 
they are too great ; they only inspire with 
awe.” 

“ What a lovely street ! ” Lena exclaimed, as 
they turned into High street, and neared the 
Hallock home. “ Do you know, Jean, I have 
never spent a day in Hew England in my 
life?” 

“ Eeally?” 

“Ho; I have just raced across a corner of 
it down by the Sound. It is a foreign land to 
me.” 

“ But with a very inviting, homey, welcom- 
ing air about it,” put in the elder. 

“ I know. It seems as though this was 
wffiere I had always belonged, and only just 
come to my birthright,” Lena said, with a lit- 


OLD— YET NEW FRIENDS. 


177 


tie wave of the hand peculiar to herself, while 
the others laughed. 

“ Let me give voice then to their wordless 
greeting, and welcome you to a home,” Jean 
said, springing out at her own steps. And 
after that there was chatter and exclaiming, 
that came with a very pleasant sound to the 
kitchen, where Cousin Wealthy and Kinda were 
busy, preparing those “ material ” trifles, that, 
in spite of all the suggestions of the wise as to 
“ simplicity,” do add so much to the comfort 
of a guest, and have, ever since the days of 
old, when a host slew the fatted calf, and 
roasted it for his visitors. 

“ It’s a good thing to be young,” said Cousin 
Wealthy. 

“Yes,” added Einda, turning the roasting 
chickens and basting them, “and next best 
thing to being young yourself’s having young 
folks around you. ' My ! ” added this philoso- 
pher, “ what a lonesome world this would be 
if everybody ivas born with their wisdom 
teeth all cut. Wonder if Miss Jean would 
like her puddin’ sauce best with fresh lemon, 
or orange seasoning ? ” 

“Lemon, I think. I am glad Jean was 
brought up a thorough temperance woman. 
These ladies, I presume, are used to higher 
flavorings.” 


178 


JEAN^S OPPORTUNITY. 


“ Have to go somewhere else than where I 
made pucldin’ sauces then,” sniffed the portly 
cook. “ I shouldn’t commence puttin’ a knife 
to my neighbor’s throat when I was nigh upon 
fifty, I guess ; when I saw enough of it in my 
younger days, and in my own father’s house, 
too, to make a saint swear. And I never laid 
any claim to that character at any age. Din- 
ner at six. Miss Torrey ? ” 

“ Yes, to-day ; then we will go back to the 
usual hour. They are used to late dinners, I 
suppose.” 

“ La, Miss Torrey, I don’t mind. Let Miss 
Jean have things as suits her ; I ain’t so stiff I 
can’t bend. And I made up my mind long 
ago, that my good looks nor my eddication 
wasn’t such as to make me any particler orna-' 
ment to society,” while her fat sides shook 
with silent merriment. “ But we need pretty 
things ; they do us good, too. I ain’t beyond 
saying that I’d rather look at one of those 
pretty vases in the parlor the judge brought 
from furrin parts, myself, than at this yellow 
bowl I’m blendin’ gravy thickenin’ in. Some- 
times, when things are goin’ wrong, the sauces 
stick, and the vegetables are too salt, and the 
cake falls, I just go in to the cool, dark parlor, 
when nobody’s nigh, and I set down and look 
at one of those restful pictures, or some of the 


OLD— YET NEW FRIENDS. 


179 


pretty things there, till the fret and the worry 
all go out of me, and I come back here as 
quiet as Moses’ kitty. I don’t expect to wear 
fine white gowns myself ; I’d look funny ; but 
when I see Miss Jean a tripping along, all 
shining and smooth in one, I just say, ‘ There ! 
that’s a part of myself ; I ironed that frock.’ 
So, I’ve got a share in the world’s pretty 
things, after all ; I help make ’em ; and I ain’t 
going to dispute the Lord’s way of orderin’, 
by tollin’ of him where I must be.” 

The trunks had come and been carried up, 
and the newcomers had tried every window 
of the three rooms with various tones of inflec- 
tion in their admiring exclamations. And at 
last, the house was settling down to its sum- 
mer afternoon quiet. 

“ I have a slight headache,” Miss Yan Dorm 
said, “ and I will leave you young ladies, who 
of course never know weariness, to bring mat- 
ters up to date, while I rest a while. By and 
by, I will come forth renewed and made 
over.” 

And she closed the door against their laugh- 
ing protests and shut herself into solitude. 
Then she slipped into a loose robe of some 
silky texture, unbound her abundant hair, and 
drawing up an easy-chair, sat down before her 
satin-draped bureau. But not to use brush or 


180 


JEAN'S OPPORTUNITY. 


toilet appliances, not to gaze at the lovely face 
mirrored opposite, nor even to catch glimpses 
of the views from the window beyond. Al- 
most the first thing to arrest her attention 
had been the “fragrant thought,” cased in 
gilt, standing on its white easel. E^ow she 
read it over, slowly and carefully. 

“ Their joy should be to bear his cross and shame ; 

Their cure, to pour for other’s wounds a balm ; 

Their rest to labor grandly ‘ In His Name.’ ” 

“Joy; cure; rest.” Strong, sweet words 
for any soul ; for this one, who had been long- 
ing for such for so long now, they had a mes- 
sage. 

When the world had darkened for Dolly 
Yan Dorm years before, and her lover had 
been taken from her, she had followed the in- 
structions of the venerable family pastor, and 
professed a religion she only half understood. 
But she did not realize that fact. She thought 
she should never care for anything again, and 
this would serve as an excuse for isolating 
herself. 

But time brought its cure, though Dolly 
Yan Dorm had never found any one to fill 
the place of her first love. She had many 
things left. Abundant means, a lovely young 
sister who was her heart’s delight, leisure, 


OLD— YET NEW FRIENDS. 


181 


friends, a cultured mind. Of course these 
gifts made her a favorite of society, and for a 
while she was satisfied. 

But somewhere within her, the Quaker 
blood that was an ancestral inheritance, be- 
gan its protest. “ One might as well be a 
slave by purchase as by choice, even if choos- 
ing society and fashion as masters,” was some- 
times her unspoken thought. 

This had led to the restless wandering of 
the past few years. 

This had brought at times a possible sharp- 
ness to the even tones ; a shadow of care-lines 
to the fair forehead. 

“There must be more than this in a life 
that God has given us,” she said. 

It is strange, how a person may wander in 
many lands as Miss Yan Dorm had done; 
may live in the finest of hotels ; meet the 
choicest of people, even good people ; may live 
thus for years and never come really near to 
the heart of anything. 

The ignorance of this highly-cultured girl, 
on some subjects, was astonishing. On all the 
latest laws of personal hygiene she was fully 
instructed. Could sit out an entire morning 
on a hotel piazza discussing theories of hered- 
ity, or of evolution. Was at home in four 
languages, and could trace their roots back 


182 


JEAN^S OPPORTUNITY. 


nearly to the ToAver of Confusion. Could ana- 
lyze books or their author’s mind ; a picture, 
or a poem. Could place before you all the 
great cathedrals, and lead you through nave 
or crypt. 

But at the higher spiritual realm of thought 
she stopped short. She had acquired the con- 
tinental habit of hearing few sermons. She 
had been as devout a worshipper as any, Avhen 
some great mistress of song carried her spirit 
with her upon the soaring tones that seemed 
to reach the sky, but her own Avorship had 
been as Avordless and as prayerless as the 
other’s. 

She had admired philanthropy, but had con- 
sidered it a gift of possession, not one to be 
sought after and acquired. She had met beg- 
gars ; oh, yes, scores of them ; dirty little 
Avretches; and tossed the “sou” to them in 
scorn. The poor were a part of the world 
and Avould be to the end. 

You see that of the real meaning of her re- 
ligion she kneAV nothing. Once, in southern 
California, she had happened into a Christian 
Endeavor meeting. The simple songs had not 
seemed crude to her, -nor the brief, earnest 
prayers, foolish. SomeAvhere in them the ear- 
nestness, the realness, had found its AA^ay to 
her heart, and left there a memory that had 


OLD— YET NEW FRIENDS. 


183 


come back to her in many a quiet hour since. 
Just now they had come from a fashionable 
watering place, where some unpleasant occur- 
rences had seemed to reveal the hollowness of 
the whole as never before. 

You will understand now, why Jean’s 
thought had a message for her guest. Why, 
instead of resting in sleep, she sat long study- 
ing that little card. 

“Well, I understand one thing,” she said at 
last, rising to dress for dinner, “ and that is, 
what I have not done. I have certainly borne 
no cross that I could help ; I have never 
healed a wound for another; I have never, 
really, done a thing ‘ In His Hame,’ purel}^, 
and sincerely. It seems there is plenty left 
for me to learn. Poor, ignorant, heartless 
thing that I am ! ” 

But you would never have fancied that 
Dolly Van Dorm had been through any valley 
of humility, when she came down, radiant 
and smiling, at the dinner call. 

Poor Cousin Wealthy would have liked to 
shrink into even a smaller corner than usual. 

“ Don’t make me come to the table, please. 
Cousin Jean,” she had begged. “Just look at 
my blistered face ; swelled yet, too.” 

But Jean was inexorable ; perhaps because 
the same thought had been in her own mind. 


184 


JEAN^S OPPORTUNITY. 


“ Fie, you simply look like a blushing rose,” 
she answered, “ and I must have you there. I 
cannot wait at both ends of the table at 
once.” 

And, after the cordial greeting of the two 
guests. Cousin Wealthy was entirely at ease, 
and forgot all about herself in the interest of 
the “ real talk,” as she said in her own mind, 
that followed. . 

To hear these three speak, as of everyday 
things, of places and scenes of which she had 
only read, was a rare treat. 

“It was quite amusing to me,” Miss Yan 
Dorm said once, “to hear what had been the 
ruling motive of some for desiring to come to 
Europe. I remember, while stopping in Ber- 
lin, that winter you were there. Miss Jean, a 
very genteel little lady was stopping at the 
same place. She was in company Avith some 
cousins, I think, but she seldom Avent out Avith 
them; Avas ahvays in their private parlor 
doing silk embroidery. One day the conver- 
sation turned in that direction, and I asked her 
Avhat had induced her to brave the Atlantic ; 
for she had been expressing herself very 
strongly against ocean voyages. And Avhat 
do you think she said ? That she should never 
have summoned courage to come, only that 
she had heard Avhat lovely embroidery pat- 


OLD- YET NEW FRIENDS, 185 

terns they had in Paris, and she wanted to 
come and select some for herself. I asked if 
she was going to Rome, and she said it was 
too tedious a journey ; she had found a teacher 
of some new stitches in Berlin, and she should 
wait there until time to return home. And 
she was very glad she had come, for she might 
never have found such a teacher in America. 
Think of it, girls,” with a merry laugh, “to 
cross the sea for some embroidery patterns. 
And there waited the Alps, and the Rhine, 
and Venice and Rome! And yet,” with a 
slight curl to the lip, “ she may not differ from 
the rest of us. We are all, perhaps, running 
after shadows. As well one as another.” 

It was well that Cousin Wealthy was too in- 
tent upon the privileges of the tourist, to 
notice the sarcasm. She spoke for the first 
time, “When I was young, I used to say 
there was just one thing I wanted to see in 
Europe, and that was St. Peter’s. The picture 
was in my geography, with the great dome, and 
I thought it the most wonderful thing in the 
world. You have been there, Miss Van 
Dorm ? ” 

“Yes, madam, and it is a wonderful place. 
I have never seen anything of man’s building 
that impressed me so much. I was there on 
one of the few great occasions when the Pope is 


186 


JEAN^S OPPORTUNITY. 


present. We waited, standing, in the front 
rank of thousands, for four hours, until he was 
brought in in his chair, carried on the 
shoulders of men. While waiting we saw 
them light up the great church. There is no 
instantaneous flash from electric connections, 
but men were swung from the dome by ropes, 
and in that dizzy height swung round and 
round, like flies caught in a cobweb, and 
lighted one candle at a time. But the soft 
glow when completed was wonderful.” 

“ And did you hear good preaching ? ” asked 
Cousin Wealthy. 

“JSTo, madam,” Dolly answered, without a 
smile, “ none at all, as you might say. What 
was said was too far away, and, I presume, en- 
tirely in Latin, too.” 

“Then St. Peter’s is really good for but 
little,” Cousin Wealthy said. “I must put 
that away with the dreams of my youth.” 

“No, madam,” Miss Yan Dorm said, ear- 
nestly, “ I do not think so. It is a thing of 
beauty, and do hot you think those are educat- 
ing of themsel ves ? ” 

“Well, perhaps so; though it don’t always 
go very deep, does it ? ” 

“ I do not say that it is sufficient. But there 
have been hours when nothing satisfied me as 
well as to go into some of those great cathe- 


OLD— YET NEW FRIENDS. 


187 


drals, and wait there in their ‘dim, religious 
light,’ until their greatness, their quiet, calmed 
my own restlessness and sent me out better.” 

“Well, well,” thought Cousin Wealthy, 
“this fine lady and Einda look at things 
pretty much alike. After all, I guess the 
kitchen and parlor are not so far apart in the 
folks God has made as some people would like 
to make them out to be. Only, the trouble is, 
to bring them together.” Aloud, she said, “ I 
suppose you have lived in other lands so long. 
Miss Yan Dorm, that you have learned to care 
as much for them as your OAvn.” 

But Dolly ansAvered her Avith warmth; 
“ 'No, Mrs. Torrey, you are mistaken there. I 
have been ashamed of my OAvn country people 
often, Avhen I have seen them aping the man- 
ners and customs of some of the dissipated 
nobility, simply because they carried a title, 
sadly smirched though it might be. But I 
think I was born too democratic in my ideas 
for that. I love America. I ncA^er denied 
that though I tried not to go about, placarded 
as to my dress or manners as, ‘ Behold ! 
you see here a great American,’ Avith a bright 
laugh. But this is the grandest land in the 
Avorld. I am proud of her institutions and of 
her people, and of the promise she otfers.” 

And she smiled into Mrs. Torrey’s eyes Avith 


188 


JEAN'S OPPORTUNITY. 


that charming graciousness that always made 
friends. 

And Cousin Wealthy smiled back frankly, 
and from that hour was one of Dolly Yan 
Dorm’s devoted admirers. 

The girls sat late that evening on the lovely 
porch, chatting, now grave, now gay. But 
they had not met for years, and in such a case 
the threads of conversation cannot be taken 
up just where they were dropped. One must 
feel about a little to see if the friend stands 
just where left. 

Two years can weave a filmy, but very con- 
scious, veil between those who parted sensi- 
tive to the slightest impress from one another. 

You reach out a little way with words that 
were once natural to both, and meet a slight 
check, a chill, and you draw back. Or you 
speak of some thought that seems to have be- 
come a part of yourself, and find the friend 
inattentive, indifferent. 

You will never meet just where you part. 
Blessed is it if the coming together again is 
on a higher plane, though by different paths. 

So these girls halted at times, and waited, 
to make sure where the other stood ; and 
caught glimpses of very pleasant nooks in the 
characters of each that they would delight in 
exploring at some time. 


OLD— YET NEW FRIENDS. 


189 


And just within the window draperies Cousin 
Wealthy sat and listened. 

“There’s something to each one of them,” 
she mused, in conclusion. “ And I guess the 
Lord won’t forget to bring it out in time. 
Only I hope my little girl won’t be a coward, 
and afraid to show up the best part of her 
living; that’s always from the inside, and 
some way the most of us are more afraid of 
showing the best than the worst of that in- 
side living. And she’s changed some since 
they were together afore. But I guess there’s 
enough of her father, if there isn’t of grace 
yet, to keep her true. And that’s a part of 
fathers, to lead us into more grace.” 


CHAPTEK XIIL 


LENA EXPEKIMENTS. 

Peehaps that had been a part of Judge 
Hallock’s work ; one of the unconscious mes- 
sengers that he sent on before him, when he 
used to ask at family prayers, “And, Lord, 
make this child to become a woman patterned 
after thy Dorcas of old ; full of good works ; 
and strong in thy grace to carry them out.” 

And Jean, kneeling before the little red 
chair, heard, and pondered. 

She rose early this morning and tarried for 
a little by her window. “ The strength of the 
hills,” she said, “ is ouj^ord.” 

“ I must arrange to leave you for a time to 
your OAvn devices this morning,” Jean said to 
her guests, after the lively breakfast time was 
over. “ I am sorry to have anything take me 
from the pleasure of your society for an hour, 
but I have a plain call of duty.” 

They were on the piazza, and the girl looked 
off to the mountains. 

“ Please do not let our presence discommode 
your plans in the least,” Dolly said, courteously. 

190 


LENA EXPERUIENTS. 


191 


“ I have letters that must be written this morn- 
ing.” 

“ And I shall swing myself into the em- 
brace of yonder hammock,” Lena put in, “ with 
my newest and most charming novel.” 

Jean’s grave eyes were still turned to the 
hills. “I may as well explain a little,’^ she 
said, and Dolly thought how lovely the girl 
was with the color coming into cheeks, and 
even spreading to neck and brow. “I have 
undertaken a little work these last few weeks 
that I feel obliged to go on with.” 

“Work?” politely. It sounded strange to 
these hotel-bred girls. 

“Yes,” with the flush deepening, “work of 
one kind. My father,” how the name quieted 
her, “ among his other property, held the deed 
of an old school building, called an academy, 
where he himself attended school when young. 
It was his intention to convert this at some 
time into a, — ” for the life" of her she could not 
say “charitable institution.” She converted 
it into a halting sentence — “ well something 
of help for others. He did not live to carry 
out any wish, and I, — I am trying to follow 
his idea a little.” 

Of course her hearers were too well bred to 
stare; but Jean felt as though their eyes were 
piercing her, and hurried on. 


192 


JEAN'S OPPORTUNITY, 


‘‘It is only a small thing, but it happens 
there are some new ones coming there to-day 
and I have to go and see to preparations for 
them.” 

“Do you mean,” asked Dolly, “that you 
are opening a home for some people ? ” 

“ Yes, just for a little while, you know.” 

But Lena broke in impulsively, “hTo, really, 
Jean? Oh, you darling! But where do you 
find them?” 

“ There seems to be no trouble in finding,” 
Jean answered. “When I began I purposed 
getting a few rooms ready and letting the 
Fresh Air Society send some of their parties. 
But if I go on I shall have no room for them.” 

“ Oh, what did you get ? Where did you 
find anybody ? ” from Lena. 

“ My first was a sick baby.” 

“ A baby ? Sick ? What did you do with 
it?” 

“Brought it and its mother, one brother 
and five sisters ; suppose the father would have 
accompanied tliem only he had run away, to 
those larger and clean rooms ; got a doctor and 
some food, and let him have a chance for 
life.” 

“ And did he live ? ” 

“Yes, and is as cunning as any baby now. 
May be president of these United States yet,” a 


LENA EXPERIMENTS. 


193 


little defiantly. She wished Dolly would say 
something. 

But it was Lena who went on with the 
questioning. “ What is his name ? ” 

“ Max.” 

‘‘ Aristocratic ! Is he pretty ? Has he curly 
hair ? ” 

“ Yes,” again. 

“Oh, 1 just love babies. Only, I hardly 
ever see one; my friends keep them in the 
nursery.” 

“ This was not a nursery baby,” smiling to 
herself. 

“ And who else have you ? ” 

“ A dear old lady, and a shop girl from the 
city.” 

“ A shop girl ! From behind the counter do 
you mean ? IIow interesting ! How did you 
chance to find her ? ” 

Jean commenced to give the story in few 
words, but her own interest increased as she 
remembered the girl’s pale face, her loneliness, 
and the untidy boarding-house of which she 
had caught a glimpse ; and she did not spare 
herself either. 

Briefly she told of her own discourteous 
words and her apology for them, not even 
looking toward Miss Yan Dorm the while, and 
bringing in Miss Smith’s story by the way. 


194 


JEAN^S OPPORTUNITY. 


“ And it is that Miss Smith who is coming 
to-morrow ? ” Lena asked at the close. “ Oh, 
Jean, you are a real Lady Bountiful ! ” but 
there were tears in the girl’s eyes, and voice, 
too. 

“Don’t, please, Lena; I had to tell you 
these things to make you understand. Any 
one would have done at least as much as I 
have, after seeing.” 

“ And you are going now to prepare for her 
coming ? ” 

“Yes, with her mother and invalid sister. 
Mrs. Smith told Miss Edson that it was eight 
years since she had seen the country, and she 
was brought up in it. There are two connect- 
ing rooms that will be pleasant for them, I 
think. I shall not have to stay very long. 
Cousin Wealthy will be able to go this after- 
noon.” 

“ Jean, please may I go with you ? ” asked 
Lena. 

“ Why, if you really wish it.” 

“ I would be so delighted if you would let 
me. And if I am good for nothing else, per- 
haps I can play with the baby.” 

Dilly and the phaeton were already waiting, 
and it was only a short time before the two 
girls were off. As they turned away, Dolly 
looked after them from the pleasant piazza. 


LENA EXPERIMENTS. 


195 


Her surroundings were, certainly, the most 
inviting ; and she seemed a part of them, lying 
back in the easy, willoAv chair, in white morn- 
ing dress, pale ribbons, and a cluster of white 
flowers she had found by her plate now pinned 
at her throat. But a not pleasant smile 
curved her lip, as the carriage rolled out of 
sight. 

“I do not think, Dolly Yan Dorm,” she 
murmured, “that you were ever guilty of a 
greater piece of rudeness. But, actually, I 
could say nothing. To hear that girl tell, so 
simply and naturally, of a work that any one 
might be proud of doing. The truth is, I have 
never heard of such before. And she seems so 
bright and wonderfully winning. And she 
wanted some word from me. I did not know 
that I could lose my self-possession like that.” 

Dolly Yan Dorm went to her own room. 
The beautiful valley with its quiet pictures 
and shifting shadows, beckoned in vain. 

But she wrote no letters that morning, read 
nothing but the little card. That she studied, 
as though to extract some hidden meaning. 

“ I wonder if Lena has one similar,” she 
thought, and went to see, but found nothing. 
Then, seeing the door of Jean’s room open, she 
went in there. 

It was a bright and sunny room, “ Like the 


196 


JEAN^S OPPORTUNITY. 


girl, herself,” she said as she stood there. And 
in a photograph case on a little bracket, she 
found another card and read, 

“ You must live each day at your very best; 

The work of the world is done by few ; 

God asks that a part be done by you. 

“ Have a purpose, and do it with your utmost might : 

You will finish your work on the other side, 

When you wake in his likeness, satisfied.” 

It was done in small letters; she had to 
stoop to read. 

Then she copied it on her pocket tablet and 
went back to her room. “ I would like to be 
satisfied,” she said after a long, long musing. 
“Does that follow from the other, I won- 
der ? ” 

Meanwhile the two girls who had driven 
awaj were more active. 

As they passed a small store, — Upper Town 
did not boast large shops, — Lena noticed a case 
of nice looking candy in the window. 

“ Didn’t you say there were other children 
there than the baby ? ” she asked, catching 
Dilly’s rein and pulling her nose sharply up to 
the shop door. At which the gentle creature 
turned her head to see, if possible, what new 
kind of a girl was riding behind her now ; she 
thought she was used to all kinds. 


LENA EXPERIMENTS. 


197 


“ Yes. What now ? ” for Lena was already 
on the ground. 

“Well, children like candy, don’t they?” 
and the laughing face disappeared within the 
doorway. 

She was out again with a generous package. 
“ Two boxes,” she said, displaying the choicest 
bonbons. “ Do you think they will like 
those ? ” 

“ I think they are probably better ac- 
quainted with pink and white ‘ stick,’ ” Jean 
returned. “ But perhaps they may take kindly 
to this luxury. Luxuries come easily to human 
nature.” 

“Well, of course I would not give aivay 
what I did not care for myself.” 

“ Of course not ; another law of human 
nature. Lena, you are the darling now,” and 
as they were not passing a house just then 
J ean gave her friend a kiss and hug. “ Lena, 
I am afraid your sister thinks me very silly 
and conceited.” 

“ Oh, not a bit of it. But, Jean, I do not 
quite know what to make of Dolly lately. 
That calm repose of hers, that used never to 
waver, is lost somehow. I have never spoken 
of it to any one before, but I know you admire 
her so much, and she does not seem happy all 
the time. And she grows tired in a very short 


198 


JEAN'S OPPORTUNITY. 


time of all the gay places we visit. She 
seemed happier, and more like herself, after 
coming here last evening, than for some time.” 

“ Perhaps she is tired out ; a little rest such 
as Williston offers will do her good.” 

“ Perhaps so. Is this the place, Jean ? ” for 
they had turned on to the academy grounds. 
“Well, I should think any one might recover 
from anything, with this view and air. Are 
those some of your protegees?” as two or 
three small girls sprang out from under a 
syringa bush and disappeared around the cor- 
ner of the building. 

“ Yes. I presume Jaky’s orders, not to show 
themselves in front, have been strict. But 
Jaky has become a man of business now, and 
like most men of that class, his family govern- 
ment must suffer. Hitherto, they have mostly 
‘come up’ like Topsy. How, come in to my 
domain, and let me give you welcome.” 

“ ‘ I heard the trailing garments of the Night 
Sweep through her marble halls : ’ ” 


quoted her friend, following into the large hall 
where their footsteps resounded a little hol- 
lowly. “Jean, I like this in the morning and 
sunlight, but wouldn’t it be a bit uncanny here, 
alone at midnight ? ” 

“ I tried it once,” Jean answered, “ with the 


LENA EXPERIMENTS. 


199 


accompaniment of a thunderstorm, too. But, 
let me show you. If I go on much longer 
with this, I shall have this chapel divided, so 
as to make one large and several smaller 
rooms. The large one will be for a general 
assembly room for any gatherings we may 
want. Then, on the other side, I shall have 
one of those classrooms fitted up for my own 
‘ sanctum sanctorum.’ But that is all a dream 
of the imagination. At present, I am satisfied 
with humble work. Now come upstairs. I 
must get to work, and I will take you in to 
see Ma’am Bly.” 

The two girls went into the old lady’s room 
and found it not quite such a haven of quiet 
as sometimes. Baby Max was, by no means, 
in his best mood. He had arriv^ed at that 
stage of recovery, sometimes seen in finer 
nurseries, where he thought the whole world 
was made for his entertainment, and he was 
demanding it loudly. Poor Mrs. Bly was too 
lame to get over to the bed for him, and he 
was proving the increasing strength of his 
lungs to any chance hearer. When he saw 
two bright and smiling 3^oung ladies enter, he 
stopped a howl in the middle, and gazed at 
them with damp, but hopeful countenance. 

“You see,” explained' the old lady, “we 
happen to be alone just now. And I never 


200 


JEAN'S OPPORTUNITY. 


knew him to behave so before. For shame, 
little Max,” as the baby smiled at her from 
Jean’s arms. 

“ Where is everybody ? ” asked Jean. 

“Well, you see, Mrs. Stearns sent for Linda 
and said she’d give her fifty cents if she’d 
come and take care of her baby to-day, sos’t 
she could do sewing with the dressmaker ; and 
then Mrs. Parsons wanted to do some color- 
ing, and Jaky got her some dye stuff, and 
she’s gone at that somewheres. Somebody 
has give her a dress, all wool and grey, but 
it’s faded in streaks, and she’s counting on 
making a good green out o’ it, and making the 
young ones some dresses ; I told her I should 
think brown would be a safer color ; but we 
all have to have our own tastes, of course; 
and Phena, she ain’t quite the ‘ stand-by you ’ 
sort that Linda is — though Phena, she’s smart 
enough in her way — I guess she’s somewhere, 
but ’tisn’t here just now.” 

“Jean, let me have him awhile; then you 
can go to your duties,” begged Lena, and as 
Jean was in haste, and Max never afraid of 
any one, the change Avas soon effected, and 
Mrs. Bly and Lena and baby left alone. 

“ How cunning he is ! ” the girl said, as Max 
made a dive for her shining belt-buckle, that 
nearly sent him headlong to the floor. Then 


LENA EXPERBIENTS, 


201 


she thought of her candy and opening the 
box, put into the baby hand a large chocolate 
Modoc. Baby gurgled gleefully as such un- 
expected sweetness greeted his open mouth, 
and fastened his tvYO tiny teeth firmly into 
the treasure. 

“For the pity’s sake!” Jean exclaimed, en- 
tering just in time. “ Why, he cannot have 
candy 1 He is on strict diet yet ! ” 

But baby did not agree with her, and had 
another season of displeasure, from which he 
was only enticed by having Lena’s watch and 
charms for a plaything. This answered for a 
time, until he nearly swallowed a pearl cross, 
and choked himself so that his two attendants 
had quite a fright. 

“I guess perhaps he’s hungry,” Mrs. Bly 
said then, in a very quavering tone. “ Just 
turn some milk from that pitcher into a cup 
and give him.” 

Lena did so. It was evidently what the 
small man was longing for, for he snatched at 
it so greedily, that three-fourths of the con- 
tents of the cup were precipitated into the lap 
of his inexperienced nurse, and the remaining 
quarter followed into his own face. Lena 
snatched her dainty handkerchief and wiped 
the sputtering, gasping child, who as soon as 
he was relieved from his milliy deluge, treated 


202 


JEAN'S OPPORTUNITY. 


them to a series of shrieks that again brought 
Jean to the rescue. 

Finally, quiet was restored; amid much 
laughter, Max took his milk, “in the proper 
place,” as Lena said, and then evidencing a 
tendency toward sleepiness, he was cuddled 
into Lena’s lap in the low rocking-chair, and 
the girl, whose voice was one of the sought- 
afters of society, softly crooned him into 
dreamland. How cunning he was then. His 
little cheek just rounding toward health; his 
tiny, innocent fingers. Lena wanted nothing 
more than just to sit and hold him. 

But as the girl glanced up smiling, it struck 
her that the old lady, who had been so gentle 
through the various mishaps, leaned back 
wearily in her large chair, and looked very 
pale. 

“ Are you tired, Mrs. Ely ? ” Lena asked, 
gently. 

“ Yes, dearie, I guess I am,” and the voice 
was faint. 

“ Can I do anything for you ? ” 

“ Perhaps, dearie, if the baby was laid on * 
the bed, I guess he’s all right now for a good 
nap, then you could give me a little milk.” 

Very carefully, and feeling as though she 
were handling fine china, Lena laid the sleep- 
ing child on the bed, and drew a long breath 


LENA EXPEimiENTS. 


203 


when she saw that he was not roused or dis- 
turbed. 

‘‘ But there is not a spoon of milk left here, 
Mrs. Bly,” she said then, looking into the empty 
pitcher. “ Shall I get some down-stairs ? ” 

“Perhaps so. You see, I don’t eat much 
breakfast ; some way I am not hungry then ; 
and Linda most always gets me something in 
the middle of the forenoon, and I guess I miss 
it, that’s all.” 

“ Let me get you something,” urged Lena. 
“May I?” 

“Well, dearie, Maggie will give you some- 
thing if you Avill ask her.” 

“ A cup of tea, Mrs. Bly ? ” 

“Oh, that’s too much trouble,” but Lena 
saw the eyes brighten. 

“ I will bring something,” the girl said, and 
going into the hall followed the sound of 
voices till she came where Jean and Mrs. Mc- 
Govern were at their busiest. 

“ Tell Maggie to send a cup of tea, some 
toast and an egg,” Jean said, with her hands 
full of towels. 

Lena had been taken to the basement and 
shown its treasures, so now she quickly ap- 
peared in the kitchen; but it was empty. 
Maggie was stretching green pieces with Mrs. 
Parsons out in the yard. 


204 


JEAN^S OPPORTUNITY. 


“ I think I can get up that lunch without as- 
sistance,” Lena said to herself. 

“ How long does Mrs. Ely like to have her 
eggs boiled ? ” she asked, finding Maggie in the 
yard. 

“ Four minutes for an egg, if the water bes 
boiling at first,” was the answer. 

Lena went back to the kitchen ; she found a 
tray ready spread in the cupboard, and, with- 
out much trouble, the bread and eggs were 
discovered in the storeroom. There was a 
good fire in the range, the teakettle already 
boiling ; everything looked favoring. 

“ She ought to have two eggs,” Lena said, 
looking at the well-filled basket, “ if she has 
had no breakfast. How, if it takes four min- 
utes to boil one I suppose it will take eight 
minutes for two,” and quickly, two of the 
whitest and smoothest from the basket were 
dropped into the pipkin of bubbling Avater. 

Then she looked about for more Avorlds “ to 
conquer.” That large basement kitchen Avas 
a very pleasant room, and shining in fresh 
paint, and every appointment bright and neAV, 
no wonder the houseAvifely instinct Avoke 
Avithin her. She had never had such a chance 
in her life. She must improve it to the utmost. 
Looking about she found a toasting iron, and 
laid a smooth slice upon it and on the top of 


LENA EXPERIMENTS, 


205 


the range. Now, the making of tea was not 
an unknown accomplishment to this child of 
fortune. She had seen that done scores of 
times, had even assisted at the ceremony. She 
had seen the dainty tea balls filled with the 
fragrant herb, then swung in the pretty cups 
while the steaming water was turned through. 
She could do that easily enough. First, the 
tea ; then she looked about for the “ ball.” 

Now, it chanced that Maggie had that 
morning, “swished” her soap holder in the 
hot dish-water until all the visible pieces of 
soap had been dissolved, but of course there 
was still some lingering in the inside edges ; 
then she laid it down on the sink shelf to fill 
again. Whirling about in her happy excite- 
ment Lena caught sight of this ; it was bright 
and shining ; rather large she thought but 
then she had noticed the large, agate teapot, 
and supposed this matched that. 

“ I remember, it is a teaspoon for one cup,” 
she said, and pressed the dry leaves into the 
tin holder. Then holding it in the cup slowly 
turned the boiling water through, and then 
carefully moved until the deepening color 
showed the strength to be extracted. 

“ There, that will do, I think,” she said at 
last, and laying the soap holder back, put her 
lovely brown toast, and her eggs cooked “ ex- 


206 


JEAN^S OPPORTUNITY. 


actly eight minutes,” on the tray, and carried 
it upstairs. 

Mrs. Bly smiled a welcome that went right 
to her heart. 

“ I do hope it is just right,” the girl said, 
whirling up a stand and placing it beside her. 
“ See, you shall have this bouquet of roses to 
enliven the whole. Now, isn’t that cosey ? ” 

“ Yes, dearie, it is. And thank you many 
times. I was getting real faint.” 

“ Well, take a little hot tea ; that will cheer 
you. I am going to turn a little in the saucer. 
There, now, don’t wait a minute. How is 
baby ? ” turning toward the bed. 

When she looked around again the saucer, 
not much lowered of its contents, was on the 
table, and Mrs. Bly Avas wiping her lips and 
coughing, almost choking it seemed. 

“ Have you a cold ? ” the girl asked, sym- 
pathizingly. “ I am so sorry. Can I get any- 
thing for you ? ” 

“ No, I guess not. I am through now,” bit- 
ing a bit from the toast. 

That had been another subject of pondering 
on Lena’s part. “ They put salt in everything,” 
she had said to herself, “ and I should think a 
half-teaspoonful would be enough for one 
slice ; ” as she had carefully sprinkled that on 
the pretty brown crust before spreading with 


LENA EXPERIMENTS. 


207 


butter. Now the poor subject of her care 
nearly had another coughing fit ; but bravely 
subduing it remarked, “ I never saw handsomer 
toast in my life. Maggie improves on that.” 

“ Ah, Mrs. Bly, I made that myself,” Lena 
exclaimed, never prouder in her life. “ Mag- 
gie was out in the yard helping Mrs. Parsons, 
and I got up your lunch all alone ; the first 
one in my life, in a real kitchen, I mean.” 

“ I guess I’ll have an egg now,” the poor lady 
said, breaking the shell with a trembling hand 
and holding it over the glass carefully. She 
need not have feared ; the egg rolled out, a 
hard, smooth ball. Ma’am Bly would have as 
soon eaten a cannon ball. 

“ IIow long do you like your eggs boiled ? ” 
asked Lena. 

“ About four minutes, dearie.” 

“ That was what Maggie said, four minutes 
for one, so as there were two I let them boil 
just eight minutes, exactly.” 

“ Lena,” called Jean at the door just then, 
“ is that youth asleep ? Yes ; well, won’t you 
come here then and give us your advice on a 
question of great importance ? ” 

“Certainly. Can you spare me a minute, 
Mrs. Bly?” 

“Yes, dearie.” 

Left alone the good woman smiled rather 


208 


JEAN^S OPPORTUNITY. 


pathetically. “ I’d never dast to eat it in the 
world,” she said, “ ’twould give me a distress 
all night.” Then she reached for the paper 
basket fortunately near, and wrapped the egg 
tightly in a piece of newspaper and pushed it to 
the bottom of the basket. Then she took 
another taste of the tea. “ I can’t think what 
happened to it,” she said ; “ I never saw noth- 
ing like it, and I wouldn’t have her feelings 
hurt for nothing. Poor dear ! ” 

After a minute she spied the empty milk 
pitcher on the floor, and turning a generous 
share from her cup into it, managed to push 
the pitcher under a corner of the bed and draw 
the spread down to hide it from sight. 

She had just returned to her toast when 
Lena opened the door. There was nothing for 
her but to go through it to the “ bitter end,” 
and so she did, with a courage worthy of a 
soldier. It was well for both that Lena had 
taken up Ma’am Ely’s book and was reading 
aloud a chapter, so she was spared the wry 
faces that the old lady could not help mak- 
ing. 

When the repast was finished, Lena offered 
to carry the tray back to the kitchen. She 
found Maggie standing by the sink shelf, in a 
state of wonderment. ‘‘Whativer has hap- 
pened to me soap shaker ? ” she said, holding 


LENA EXPERIMENTS. 


209 


up the shining tin thing. “ It’s the likes of 
tay it smells iv,” and she held it out to Lena. 

“ Why it is tea,” explained the girl. ‘‘ I used 
it to make Mrs. Ely’s tea ; she wanted a cup ; 
wasn’t that right ? ” 

The look of speechless consternation on the 
girl’s face was too much ; Lena burst into a 
merry laugh. Just then Jean appeared from 
the stairs with her arms full of wraps. 

“ Lena, I find I must go down town before 
going home. So I have sent one of the girls 
up to take care of the baby and brought your 
hat to you, and we will go right on. Come.” 

“■ Jean,” said Lena, when they were seated 
in the phaeton, “ let me tell you Avhat I have 
done,” and she told of her cup of tea. 

It was hard to keep their laughter within 
bounds as they rode on. 

“Poor woman! What a goose she must 
think me ! ” Lena exclaimed. 

Half way down they met two other ladies 
driving, and with a message for Jean that 
diverted their thoughts, and the subject did 
not again come up until they were seated at 
the dinner-table. 

“I suppose you made yourself useful this 
morning?” Dolly said then, inquiringly, to 
her younger sister. 

“ Oh, so useful ! ” with the laugh of a bird. 


210 


JEAN^S OPPORTUNITY. 


“ Ask Mrs. Ely ; she will recommend me for 
matron of a hospital. But, really, Jean, you 
left me with full hands in that small room,” 
and with the most infectious glee, Lena told of 
her trials with Baby Max, until even her stately 
sister shook Avith laughter. “But that Avas 
not all,” she Avent on, and began the story of 
Mrs. Ely’s lunch. She expected a laugh over 
the tea, but Avas utterly unprepared for the 
merriment as she came first to the history of 
the eggs. 

“ Eight minutes for tAvo eggs ! ” Cousin 
Wealthy exclaimed, aghast. 

“ Yes, madam, Avas not that right ? ” 

“ Lena, I do not knoAv that I ever blushed 
for you before,” her sister said, Avhen the mat- 
ter had been made clear. 

“ I only Avonder Avhat Mrs. Ely did Avith it ; 
she Avould never eat it,” Jean said. 

And then had to come the soapy tea and the 
salted toast. Lena had never been so laughed 
at in her life. 

But Avhen the merriment had subsided, the 
girl sat very silent and thoughtful for a feAV 
moments. 

“ One thing is certain,” she said then, lifting 
an earnest face, “ this Avill not happen again ; 
not if I can prevent it. And if Mrs. Torrey,” 
Avith a smile toAvard that lady, “ Avill take me 


LENA EXPERIMENTS. 


211 


for a pupil, I will learn how to make good tea 
and toast, and be of some use to others. Will 
you teach me, Mrs. Torrey, and when ? ” 
“To-morrow morning, bright and early,” 
was that lady’s prompt reply. “ I shall be in 
the kitchen then. And I never knew anybody 
yet,” she added, “at least any woman who 
was not a good deal happier as well as of more 
use, the more they knew about a kitchen, and 
the things that come out of it. And I’m 
glad when I see anybody a learning things 
that ought to be as plain to every woman as 
the nose on her face ; and no mistake about 
that.” 


CHAPTEK Xiy. 


A SIMPLE TEA-PARTY. 

It was the Monday after their coming, and 
Jean and her guests were invited to a quiet 
little tea at Madam Nye’s, as she was called. 

Ethel had remonstrated a little : “ What can 
we do for these fine ladies, who have been 
everywhere and seen everything ? ” she said. 
“ Only a plain, village home.” 

“ It is just that, my dear,” the old lady 
shrewdly returned, “ in Avhich their education 
is lacking, the home life. And if they are the 
sensible women I fancy they are, under all that 
culture and fine air, then they will appreciate 
simple kindness, and the real things of a home 
life. If not, they are not the kind of friends 
our Jean wants, and the sooner she finds it out 
the better.” 

But not even Madam Xye half understood 
the new experiences of these strangers. Dolly 
was still quite a mystery to Jean. 

“There is the place of our labors,” she had 
said as they were out driving a day or two 
after the guests’ coming, pointing from the 
212 


A SIMPLE TEA-PARTY, 


213 


street up to the academy building near by, and 
hoping to hear an expression of interest. 

But Dolly merely glanced at it critically 
with the remark, “ I should think that would 
serve your purpose very well. Miss Jean.” 
Then added, “ What a magnificent back- 
ground that solitary mountain makes for your 
village, with its slopes and hollows, and vary- 
ing shades of green ! W ould it be possible to 
drive part way up now ? the views must be 
very fine.” 

And Jean turned Dilly’s head to the moun- 
tain road with a sob in her heart. This friend 
was failing her ; she had come to a height 
where the other did not meet her. And, to a 
true heart, this is the sorest of hurts. 

But Lena was engaged and happy. Each 
morning she presented herself in the kitchen, 
and worked, and blundered, and tried over, 
and burned herself, and laughed through it 
all. Monday morning she came to the break- 
fast-table, flushed, but triumphant, bearing in 
her hands a plate of crisp, hot toast, that she 
set down before her sister. 

See, Dolly, I have conquered. E’ow, 
when you are ill, no more burned, smoky, cold 
toast from some careless chambermaid, but a 
superfine article from your own sister’s hand. 
!Now, is not that delicious ? ” 


214 


JEAN'S OPPORTUNITY. 


And Dolly praised enough to satisfy, while 
Cousin Wealthy smiled indulgently on her 
pupil. 

“ Colfee next,” went on Lena. “ The high 
priestess of that department will condescend 
to teach your humble servant the mysteries of 
that art, to-morrow morning. I have had one 
lecture already, though Dame Einda has little 
faith and less hope in any one, who ‘ever 
wore a real stone ring,’ amounting to any- 
thing. Treated me to that observation Satur- 
day when I offered to beat the eggs for her 
sauce. But I told her,” saucily, “ that I did 
not know that stone rings would have any 
worse effect than a carnelian one witEa heart 
on it, and I glanced at hers. And I think she 
has liked me rather better ever since.” 

Jean had met the Smiths on Friday after- 
noon. She had sent up Mrs. Smith and 
daughter and Marne Edson in a depot carriage, 
but had taken the invalid in her own phaeton. 
She had almost stared at the beautiful face 
when the girl was led out by her sister and 
helped in. 

“ She has the face of an angel in some of 
the frescoes, sister,” Lena told Dolly after- 
% ward. 

Lena was waiting at the rooms when Jean 
brought her new guests. 


A SIMPLE TEA-PARTY. 


215 


“ As refined, ladylike people as I ever saw,’’ 
again from Lena. 

And the delight and happiness of the three, 
Avhen really in those rooms made ready, the 
others would not soon forget. 

Since then Jean had learned something of 
their history. Mrs. Smith had been brought 
up in a pleasant country home and given a 
good education. She married a young man 
from the same place, who was rapidly making 
a place in business and went with him to the 
city. There, for many years he was moder- 
ately successful, and they lived in a pleasant 
home. Their one grief had been in the lame- 
ness of their younger daughter, left , so by 
some child’s disease. The older, Helen, was 
educated at a well-known seminary, and just 
after her graduation the father died. Then it 
was found that the western speculation into 
which he had entered in later years had 
proved unfavorable. Nearly everything, home 
and all, went to pay the debts. 

Helen saw that it was necessary to do some- 
thing at once. A friend of her father’s offered 
a good clerkship in his store. She had no 
taste for teaching even if she had had a “ pull ” 
to secure a place. She did like business, and 
was soon head of her department. But ex- 
penses were many and constant, and every 


216 


JEAN'S OPPORTUNITY. 


cent had to go to meet the plainest living. 
Nearly every year she had worked through 
vacation time to earn extra. No wonder she 
had broken down the spring before. 

But when Jean’s invitation came she had 
put it by as impossible to accept. 

“ Such things are not for me,” she thought. 

Then the gentle, little mother rose to the 
occasion; she had begun to fear for Helen’s 
health. Now she demanded the chance for 
Mabel and herself, and insisted that Helen must 
go to care for them. The tired clerk was almost 
as surprised as delighted to find herself here. 

“ I never saw mother so determined about 
anything,” she had told Marne that morning, 
as the two were busy settling things to leave. 

“I am thankful she is,” answered Maine. 
“ You look almost as thin as a shadow. And 
oh, isn’t it lovely there ! I believe. Miss 
Smith,” sh3dy, “ if I could stay there forever 
I’d grow most as good as you are,” and the 
“ forelady ” appreciated what that meant. 

Miss Yan Dorm had to hear much of this. 
Lena did not notice her sister’s coolness to the 
subject, and if Cousin Wealthy did she had 
ideas of her own, and Jean wondered some- 
times to hear the number of questions her 
usually quiet cousin found to ask. Dolly Yan 
Dorm found herself in school still. 


A SmPLE TEA-PARTY, 


217 


That .'N’ew England Sabbath had been a 
revelation to her. She had “worshipped,’’ as 
she would have said, in many grand temples ; 
had listened to many eloquent sermons ; had 
been awed and even inspired by them. But, 
after all, there was a simplicity, a naturalness, 
about these services that appealed to her heart. 
A pastor from a distant city, resting here, was 
the preacher and his theme was charity, love 
to one’s neighbor, and the neighbor was one 
in need. Then the quiet of the home, the 
turning from usual topics of conversation, the 
summer hush upon the streets, gave her more 
time for thought than she quite cared for. 

“One realizes here that the Sabbath may 
mean rest, very differently from the Conti- 
nental day of the same name,” Miss Yan Dorm 
said that evening, as they lingered on the 
piazza. “ There all is bustle and confusion ; 
the streets are crowded with pleasure-seekers ; 
every place of amusement is thronged.” 

“ AVhen do they have their rest day, then ? ” 
asked Cousin Wealthy. 

“They say rest is found in change and 
amusement, madam.” 

“Well, perhaps. Though as far as I have 
seen there isn’t anybody more tired and worn 
out than those people who are running after 
amusement. I’d rather scrub and wash, than 


218 


JEAN'S OPPORTUNITY, 


run around for a good time to rest up on. I 
believe,” she added, reverently, “ that when 
the Lord said, ‘ Six days shalt thou labor and 
do all thy work,’ he included such work as 
that too, and intended the seventh to be a real 
rest to body and mind both. AnyAvay, I know 
that my Aveek is a very different one if I have 
followed out his command.” 

Madam hsye came herself on Monday morn- 
ing to gi\^e her invitation. 

“Just a plain little home tea,” she said to 
the guests. “ Six or eight of our girl friends. 
I have not a table that extends for twenty, 
and one untrained girl can hardly prepare for, 
or Avait upon, so many. But Ave like to enter- 
tain Jean’s friends, and Avould like to give you 
a pleasant memory of Williston.” 

“ It is very kind of you. We shall be most 
happy to accept,” Miss Yan Dorm ansAvered, 
promptly. There Avas no doubt of the admi- 
ration she felt for the stately, Avhite-haired 
lady ; it shoAved in every look. 

As for Lena, she exclaimed, “ Oh, Mrs. 
'Nje, I am having one of the best times of my 
life ! Why, I shall never Avish to go aAvay 
from Williston.” 

“I Avant to speak Avith you a moment,” 
the lady said, as Jean Avent Avith her to the 
door. 


A SIMPLE TEA-PARTY, 


219 


“Come right into the library,” Jean said, 
and led the way. 

“ I have a little favor to ask of you,” the 
lady went on. “ I wish to ask one among my 
guests to-day that may surprise you.” 

“ Of course you can invite whom you like. 
Auntie Nye,” Jean returned. 

Now Madam Nye knew that was perfectly 
true. The family purse was not long, but the 
honorable name was. There had been more 
than one governor on the list. “We haven’t 
been in the habit of running away from our 
debts, nor of getting divorces,” Madam Nye 
said sometimes. 

“ I want to ask Agnes Storms.” 

“ Agnes Storms ! ” 

“ Yes. I know she is not on the usual list. 
But her mother was a Lothrop and used to be 
counted in everywhere, of course. However, I 
have another reason for this. I called upon 
Mrs. Storms the other day ; her mother was 
one of my girlhood’s dear friends. Many a 
pleasant hour have I spent with Agnes Lake, 
and I would like to lighten the daughter’s 
burdens, if I might. I found her with plenty, 
though she does not mention them to you. 
But her health is improving, really improving 
at last, and for the first time in three years 
she is beginning to look with longing for 


220 


JEAN^S OPPORTUNITY. 


something beyond her own home. ‘ I wish I 
could get quite out of sight of this house,’ she 
said once. ISTow, that would not be such a 
difficult matter. For Louis Storms, good man 
though he is, seems to be one of those people 
that always drops his bread, buttered side 
down. Not a bit of faculty. Now, when he 
put what money she had into a home, why on 
earth didn’t he choose a different place to land 
it? Nobody knows. In this toAvn of fine 
views he set his house down in about the 
only hollow, where nothing can be seen, that 
he could find. And then Burden built his 
great barn in the only lookout place there 
was.” 

“ I have noticed that often,” said Jean. 

“ ‘ Well,’ I said, ‘ why don’t you go and see 
your brother ? ’ She has one about forty 
miles away. But she couldn’t think of that. 
Said she should go wild to think of herself so 
far away as that. By and by we got to speak- 
ing of your work at the academy; and she 
was so interested. I wish you would go and 
tell her more of it some day. She said she 
had heard something of it, but Agnes found 
so little time to get out that they really had 
scarcely any general news. Then she said, 
‘ Oh, dear, I almost envy them. How lovely 
it would be to be in a room where one could 


A SIMPLE TEA PARTY. 


221 


see something besides Burden’s barn. And just 
think ! It is three years since I have been 
outside our own gate.’ I came away with a 
thought in my mind, and on the way home I 
met Doctor Lambeth. Strange, how the Lord 
almost always brings the people you need right 
to hand when you have a thought for him. I 
stopped and talked with him. Asked how it 
would do for her to go somewhere ; and he 
said it would be the saving of her. Her body 
was coming into tone, but the spirit needed 
rousing ; she was growing morbid. Heeded 
to be taken out of herself into others’ inter- 
ests. I spoke of her brothers, and he said she 
was not equal to that yet. Of my house — too 
near. I told him what she had said of the 
academy, and he said nothing could be better 
than that. Out of sight of her own home, but 
not out of reach.” 

The old lady stopped in her rapid speech 
with her bright eyes upon the girl. 

“I see what you want. Auntie Hye,” Jean 
said, laughing, “do you think we could per- 
suade her to go ? ” 

“ Will you try ?” 

“ Most certainly.” 

“ Having Agnes at my house to-day would 
be a part of it. They are proudly sensitive, of 
course. Y ou might invite Kitty Storms there 


222 


JEAN^S OPPORTUNITY. 


as an equal, but you couldn’t invite her as an 
inferior. Do you see ? ” 

“Yes. Invite Agnes and I will do my best 
to make it pleasant for her.” 

“And whatever you do, Ethel will follow.” 

“ O Auntie Hye ! ” and Jean leaned for a 
moment against the older lady, “have I so 
much influence ? It frightens me.” 

“It needn’t, dear. You bright, happy girls 
can never measure your influence. But if 
Christ be back of it all is well.” 

“Do you think — that — ^that Agnes has a 
suitable dress ? How mean that sounds ! ” 

“You don’t mean it so, dear. Yes, I 
chanced to find out about that. Her mother 
told me how busy Agnes had been in making 
a new mull, that she has not worn yet, and 
showed it to me. It is pretty and tasteful. 
And, as any girl has a right to, Agnes will be 
happy in wearing it.” 

“ What a long, private visit you have been 
having with that lovely old lady. I quite 
envy you,” Lena said, as Jean returned to the 
piazza. 

“ If every one could grow old as gracefully 
as that,” put in Miss Yan Dorm, “ one would 
not fear the advance of years.” 

It was just one of the pleasant little groups 
always coming together in these homes, that 


A SIMPLE TEA-PARTY, 


223 


afternoon. Taking in the invitingly laid table 
with its old family silver and delicate china, a 
few hours of chat, grave or gay, the gathering 
twilight, the evening music, and then a put- 
ting away among the pleasant memories. 

There were only eight youthful faces, and 
the one with silvered hair but heart as young 
as any, who sat behind the quaint, silver urn, 
and dispensed tea or chocolate as desired. 
Beside Jean and her friends and Ethel, there 
was a friend from a near-by home and a 
cousin visiting her, one friend from the sum- 
mer hotel, and Agnes Storms, in the fresh, 
pretty mull. 

“I did not suppose Agnes could look so 
almost pretty,” Ethel whispered to Jean once, 
“hfotice her eyes; how they change from 
grey to dark blue, and how expressive they 
are.” 

“ Yes, this urn has a history,” Madam IS'ye 
said, to one of the guests, who had been ad- 
miring its graceful outline. ‘‘ In the old days 
when Scottish history was being made on such 
fields as Bannockburn, one of our ancestors, 
who had held land for generations under one 
lord, received from him, at a time when his 
castle was in danger, several pieces of plate to 
secrete and care for. He did this, almost at 
the expense of his life, and when the lord took 


224 


JEAN^S OPPORTUNITY. 


away the plate he gave him this, which was 
an odd piece, as a reward for fidelity. Then 
again, in our own revolutionary days, when 
there were too many British and Hessians 
casting longing eyes upon this part of the 
country, it was hidden among the roots of an 
old oak-tree, on a farm about a mile from 
here, where my mother’s family lived. I have 
heard her tell many times, how she with her 
brothers and sisters when they were children, 
used often to bury an old, cracked pitcher in 
the same place, and then divide into two 
parties, and while the British attacked, the 
others would defend the treasure.” 

“ It seems to me. Madam Hye,” said Miss 
Yan Dorm, “that great things used to be 
nearer than they are now, that people lived 
closer to real things than at present. We do 
not seem to find great issues. Is history-mak- 
ing all past ? ” 

“ Only advancing, my dear Miss Yan Dorm. 
There are giants in these days as well as 
then.” 

“ Giants ! dear Madam Hye ! ” 

“ Yes, to face and to fight ; and the only 
distinction in these later days is, that women 
also have their part, and a most important 
one, in the crusades against them. Look at 
the temperance cause, for instance. Are we 


A SIMPLE TEA-PARTY. 


225 


not learning to expect that women will be in 
the front of that work ? And is there not for 

them, conquests as great, history as grand to 
write as ever fell to the lot of any people? 
And there are many similar causes,” she added 
more quietly, “ enough to engage the strength 
of every true woman.” 

“But, Madam IS'ye,” Miss Van Dorm spoke 
earnestly, “do you think these can exercise 
the same influence over one, that living right 
among stirring scenes, such as the revolution, 
did ? Can we make them seem as important, as 
necessary, I mean ? Why, it was life or death, 

then. ” 

“ And it is still, my dear young lady, only it 
is the soul as well as the body oftentimes, in 
these cases.” Madam l^ye spoke with deep 
feeling. There were those wlio said that 
there had been stormy times in her life in the 
past. 

“ I am glad to hear you put it in this way, 
Madam Nye,” said the first questioner. She 
was the boarder from the hotel. “ My home 
is in the city, and I grow very tired of the gay 
round that seems to take up all my time and 
to give very little in return. When I go back 
I shall try to find some place of work. I am 
going to bind myself to it, have regular hours 
to give to it, and see if I cannot become a 


226 


JEAN'S OPPOETUNITY. 


little better satisfied with myself ; I am dis- 
gusted enough at times, dear knows.” 

So am I,” put in the guest visiting near ; 
“ but I never was until I heard of Miss 
Hallock’s work, and what she is doing in her 
summer. It makes me ashamed of my useless- 
ness.” 

“Don’t, please,” Jean said, blushing rosily. 
“ I only did that because it was given me to 
do.” 

“Perhaps something would be given the 
rest of us,” persisted the other, “ if Ave kept 
our eyes open.” 

“ True enough,” remarked the other Hill girl. 

But to Jean’s relief. Madam Hye gave the 
signal for rising and the subject Avas dropped. 

The Hye home Avas one of the older houses 
of the toAvn, Avith a Avide hall that opened 
quite through and out on a back porch, and 
from there doAvn one or two steps, into the 
garden. Madam Hye’s delight, full of fruit and 
old-fashioned floAvers. In its borders one 
could find sweetAvilliams, and love-lies-bleed- 
ing, and the fragrant clove pink, and balm for 
coloring, and bachelor’s buttons, and hundred 
leaved roses. And beloAA^, AA^ere beds of thyme, 
and mint, and anise, and parsley, and rue, and 
AvormAvood, and sage, and tansy ; “ herbs good 
for soups or sickness,” as the old lady ex- 


A SIMFLi: TEA-PARTY. 


227 


plained ; and the girls lingered curiously 
among them. 

“No one need go to Cologne,” Lena said, 
laughing. “ Here are her twenty-seven dis- 
tinct odors. I have gathered them all on my 
fingers,” and she pinched a leaf of rosemary 
between them. 

Then they sauntered back up the wide, 
central walk, and sat down, a bright, merry 
group, on the low porch in the gathering 
shadows. All but two of the number. And 
those two ? One would never have dreamed 
of choosing the plain-faced, quiet Agnes 
Storms, whose expressive eyes had done nearly 
all her speaking for her, as having a message 
for the stately Dolly Van Dorm. The woman 
who had traveled everywhere, been sated Avith 
sensations until everything seemed worn out. 

It chanced — let us call it so — that Miss Van 
Dorm had gone a feAV steps further than the 
others, to where, just on the edge of a steep 
incline, a seat had been placed under some 
lilacs, from Avhich a grand view was given 
into the^ valley almost directly below. Not 
noticing how near the edge she was, her foot 
had almost slipped over, and she had caught 
quickly at a bush Avith a sudden exclamation. 
Agnes, Avho Avas last, happened to hear it, 
turned, and saAV, and Avent quickly back. 


223 


JEAN'S OPPORTUNITY. 


“Are you hurt, Miss Yan Dorm?” she 
asked, for that lady stood leaning against the 
stalk and trembling. 

“More startled than hurt, Miss Storms, 
though I have wrenched my ankle a little.” 

“ Let me call some one.” 

“No, no, please. Miss Storms. If I may 
lean on you a little to reach the seat, I will be 
all right in a few moments.” 

But she leaned quite heavily, and Agnes 
could see that she was white to the lips when 
she was seated. 

“I am sure you need something. Miss Yan 
Dorm,” she insisted. 

“ No, really. Miss Storms. It is mostly the 
shock. For an instant I thought I was fall- 
ing, and the sensation was startling.” She 
leaned over and pressed the ankle between 
her fingers. “I have done that before; the 
ankle has a tendency to weakness. It only 
needs a few minutes of rest. Will you sit 
down here with me a few minutes ? ” 

Would she ? Simple Agnes Storms felt as 
though Queen Yictoria had honored her. Had 
not her eyes unwittingly devoured this won- 
derful, gracious woman ever since she came 
in, with no thought of ever coming nearer? 
And now, to sit alone with her in the soft 
hush of this summer twilight ! For this quiet 


A SIMPLE TEA-PARTY. 


229 


girl had the soul of a poet, a dreamer. This 
Avas a poem singing itself; a daring dream 
realized. 

“Miss Jean tells me you have an invalid 
mother,” Miss Van Dorm said, presently. 

“ She has been ill for three years, but is bet- 
ter now, and I hope will be well soon.” 

“ It has been hard for you ? ” questioningly. 

“ Oh, I do not mind that. I think a person 
who is well ought never to mind anything,” 
earnestly ; “ and I am quite well.” 

“ Why ought not a well person to mind any- 
thing ? ” curiously. 

“ I did not mean that exactly ; I meant any 
care or work. If one is well that can be met 
bravely.” 

“ You did not mean disappointments or trials, 
then ? ” 

“ I do not know ; I have not had any trial ; 
my family are all living ; and only one disap- 
pointment.” 

She spoke so naturally, that before she real- 
ized what she was saying, Dolly asked, “ And 
what was that ? Oh, I beg your pardon ! ” she 
added, quickly, “ I did not think what I was 
saying.” 

But Agnes did not mind. “ I wanted to be 
a teacher. Miss Yan Dorm; I have always 
wanted to be. When I was a little girl I used 


230 JEAN^S OPPORTUNITY. 

to think about it and dream of it. I was 
always playing teacher. And then,” she hesi- 
tated slightly, “ I hoped to do something for 
the others, too; I have two brothers, and the 
dearest little sister that ever was; and I 
wanted them to have chances in the world, the 
same as others ; and mamma felt the same as 
I ; and I had just entered the senior year of 
the high school, down town, and then they^ 
were planning to give me one year away, 
when mamma was taken sick. Of course I 
had to leave school; mothers are worth the 
most of anything, you know, and that was 
almost three years ago ; and I was seventeen, 
then. Of course, even when mamma gets 
strong again I shall be too old to take it up.” 

“ I do not see why,” Dolly returned. This 
story had been more interesting than any 
novel she had read in a long time. “ Keally, I 
do not. Twenty is not a venerable age by any 
means. Have 3^ou kept up your studies ? ” 

“ I tried to read in the Chautauqua course, 
but I could not. I got so tired I began to 
grow cross and fretty, and I knew that Avas 
not right.” 

“Well, Miss Storms, I Avould not give up if 
I could not finisli until I Avas tAventy-five, or 
thirty even. I Avould keep on. Why I haA^e 
seen students Avith grey hair many times.” 


A SIMPLE TEA-PARTY. 


231 


Her manner was full of that earnest interest 
people often found so charming in Miss Yan 
Dorm, when she chose to manifest it. But she 
was sincere this time. 

‘‘It was not all because of the children,” 
Agnes went on, a little shyly. “Miss Yan 
Dorm, do not you think any one ought to 
do all they possibly can in this world for 
others ? ” 

Hot very grammatical, and to this pleasure- 
seeker ! 

“I suppose so; of course,” Miss Yan Dorm 
answered. 

“ And to make all of themselves possible ? ” 

“Yes.” 

The twilight was deepening about them; 
perhaps that was the reason this girl gave such 
unwonted confidence. In her real interest 
too, Dolly had leaned toward her. It was 
such a new thing to have any one come to her 
with real heart thoughts. In “ society ” they 
were not supposed to have such. 

“ I always wanted to do something for 
others,” Agnes went on, simply, “ to make my 
life worth something. And I think a teacher 
who wins the love and confidence of her pupils 
has a wonderful place. I never cared to be a 
missionary, — I am not good enough anyway ; 
but perhaps I could teach, and do something 


232 


JEAN'S OPPORTUNITY, 


for children at least. So that was one reason 
also.” 

“ Do not give it up, Miss Storms,” heartily. 

I am sure the world needs good teachers as 
much as anything.” 

“ I have read the life of Mary Lyon,” went 
on Agnes. “ Mamma graduated at Holyoke, 
and certainly, it seems grand to me. Why, 
she was the maker of missionaries, and teach- 
ers who carried her lessons around the world. 
Oh, it must be grand to live like that ! With 
such an earnest purpose ! When mamma Avas 
so ill I did not mind, but noAV she is so much 
better. And then, seeing what Miss Hallock 
has done this summer rouses one all up. 
Why, if every one did as much as she has^ 
what a happy Avorld it Avould be ? ” 

“ But eAwy one cannot. Miss Storms.” 

“Ho, of course I couldn’t,” humbly. “But, 
some Avay, seeing Avhat she is doing makes one 
long to be more and do more. Don’t you 
think so? Does your ankle paiii you. Miss 
Yan Dorm ? ” noticing a little start. 

“Ho, I think the pain has about gone. Per- 
haps we had better join the others noAV,” try- 
ing it. “ Do not speak of my carelessness, 
please. And, Miss Storms,” as they Avalked 
slowly back, “do not give up your hopes; I 
shall folloAV them Avith interest.” 


A SnfPLF TEA-PARTY. 


233 


“Will you? Oh, thank you! You have 
helped me a great deal.” 

“We thought you two were lost,” called 
Jean, as they came up the steps. 

And just then, too. Madam Nye appeared 
in the doorway. 

“Miss Van Dorm,” called Ethel, “we are 
trying to decide the important question, of 
how best to retain our youthful bloom and 
beauty.” 

“ Yes,” put in Lena, “ we have been over all 
the washes, and cosmetics, and powders you 
can think of ; we have rubbed our cheeks up 
Avith coarse towels to smooth out, or frighten 
away, croAv’s nests of Avrinkles ; Ave have ironed 
our foreheads, and been through all the Del- 
sarte contortions to keej) the lines from lips 
and cheeks.” 

“Yes,” put in Jean, “if the professionals 
Avill give us but a few more rules Ave shall bid 
defiance to age; AA^e shall have found the 
fountain of perpetual youth.” 

“Perhaps Ave had better ask Madam Nye 
for that,” Miss Van Dorm said, in her bright- 
est manner. “ She certainly seems to have 
discovered it.” 

“Oh, yes, auntie,” called Jean, “come and 
sit right down here, and tell us Avhat you have 
used. It is your duty, for, see girls, there is 


234 


JEAN'S OPPORTUNITY, 


hardly a suggestion of wrinkle on that fore- 
head. Do you always rub your cheeks up, 
Auntie Nye? and toward your eyes?” mis- 
chievously. 

“ Humph ! ” the old lad}^ returned. “ Stuff 
and nonsense. When I was young we went 
to bed in good season — generally. Didn’t 
wear out our nerves and ruin our complexions 
by late hours and rich suppers. Of course we 
had parties, and fine ones, too, but they were 
only occasional. But the best thing, girls, is 
a quiet and contented spirit. Be contented 
with what God gives you, and do some work 
for others along the way so as to forget self, 
and the wrinkles will be slow in coming. Bet- 
ter than all the washes man ever made, I as- 
sure you.” 

“ Wouldn’t I be amused,” put in Ethel, “to 
find grandmamma standing before the glass 
some day, and going through the Delsarte 
motions ? ” 

“It will be a long day before you do, my 
dear, unless I lose my reason,” returned the 
old lady, “ which, pray God I maj^ not. And 
now, young ladies, I think there must be some 
musical talent here that needs to be draAvn 
out. Will you walk into the parlor and give 
the old lady a treat that she always enjoys ? ” 

“ Common lives?” thought Miss Yan Dorm, 


A SIMPLE TEA-PARTY. 


235 


as the choice and artistic music fell upon the 
evening air, watching the serene and placid 
face that had looked upon more than its allot- 
ted years of life, then glancing toward the 
young girl who had so freely told of her 
heart’s longings, now rapt and absorbed in the 
rare treat. “ I begin to believe there are none 
such. Think of the experiences of those three- 
score and ten years ; and of the hopes and de- 
sires of that girl. How broad they both are ; 
how far-reaching I Dolly Yan Dorm, you are 
beginning to see that you have missed much 
of life.” 

And when her own turn came perhaps she 
had never sung with so much pathos and heart 
before, though she chose but simple songs. 

At all events there were tears in Madam 
Hye’s ej^es as she thanked her. “ You have a 
wonderful gift in that voice, my dear lady,” 
she said; “may many hearts be thankful and 
rejoice in it.” 

And she had never been thanked in that 
way before. 


CIIAPTEE XY. 


A DECISION. 

The day after the little tea-party Jean had 
planned to give entirely to her guests. As 
soon as breakfast was over, Mark appeared 
with Dilly and the surrey, and with many 
lively words the three were seated and off for 
a long day’s drive. 

“Cousin Wealthy,” called Jean back, as 
they started, “ be sure and tell Miss Smith I 
hope to see her to-morrow, won’t you ? ” 

“ And, Mrs. Torrey,” put in Lena, from the 
other side, “don’t let kitty fall in the fire 
while I am gone, will you ? ” 

Miss Yan Dorm smiled indulgently on the 
two rattle pates, said she supposed “they 
couldn’t help being silly on such a lovely 
morning,” and then dropped into a fit of 
musing. 

She was unusually quiet all the long drive 
of fifteen miles, to a noted college town. 

They rolled along, in the leisurely manner 
Mark thought best for Dilly, sometimes be- 
tween hills, that, wooded to their summits, 
caught the sunlight on their further crests, but 
236 


A DECISION. 


237 


left the lower half still in shadow and sparkling 
with dew. Sometimes they wound down a 
long hill between swaying evergreens. “ For 
the purpose,” as Lena said, “of climbing up 
the other side. Such useless work, Jean, for 
those Titans of old, to take a good level piece 
of earth and make hills of it ! Why not leave 
it smooth and plain ? ” 

The girls were out whenever Mark thought 
it necessary to give Dilly a rest, and that 
was semi-frequently ; sometimes exclaiming 
over some choice flower, “pretty heap of 
weeds,” Mark pronounced them in his secret 
thought, with which they adorned the carriage 
and Dilly until the whole looked like a mov- 
ing bouquet; sometimes holding a silver cup 
under a stray waterfall that trickled and fell 
over a jutting rock. 

“ Cool as though just from a glacier,” Lena 
said, holding the cup toward her sister. 

Then they wound along through meadows, 
with ribbons of brooks fringing their edges or 
belted across the middle. 

It was almost noon when they alighted at a 
fine hotel in the college town for dinner. 

“We will start back, Mark, as near half- 
past two as possible.” 

“Very well. Miss Jean.” 

It was rest time for the students of course, 


238 


JEAN'S OPPORTUNITY. 


but Jean had a friend in the president, whose 
home was here, and he, himself, gave them a de- 
lightful hour and more in taking them through 
the quaint old buildings, hoary and ivied, and 
full of associations with honored names, or 
showing the elegant ones of modern date. 

“You have not yet even an annex for my 
own sex?” Miss Yan Dorm said once. 

“No, madam, not as yet. The day may 
come. The wisdom of one age becomes fool- 
ishness in the eyes of another.” 

“I hope not,” Miss Yan Dorm said, warmly. 
“ I am not a friend to co-education as yet ; but, 
then, I am not progressive.” 

“ It is hard to imagine that, madam.” 

“What I mean is, the age advances too 
rapidly for me in some things. I would pre- 
fer a woman’s college for my sister. I do not 
like to hear a woman lecture.” 

“ Oh, don’t you ? ” exclaimed Jean ; “ I have 
enjoyed some very much.” 

“ It may have been my misfortune in not 
finding the best,” Dolly returned, “ but I vis- 
ited one of the great international conventions 
in Exeter Hall, and I assure you I was not con- 
verted there.” 

But that was all. How charming Dolly 
herself was to the courtly president. How 
proud Jean was of her. 


A DECISION, 


239 


But she was quiet again on the home trip ; 
so very quiet and abstracted. 

The grade was in their favor this way, and 
then, Billy’s head was turned homeward ; and 
it is astonishing how quickly a horse learns 
the “points of compass,” with home for the 
magnet. 

They were just in time for the warm sup- 
per, and ready for it, too, though Lena ate 
lightly, and then asked permission to retire, 
with the headache the long drive had given 
her. 

Miss Yan Borm and Jean sat alone on the 
wide piazza, in the failing light, when the loud 
peal of the church bell broke into their silence. 

“What is that for?” asked Miss Yan Borm. 

“ Prayer-meeting.” 

“ On Tuesday evening?” 

“Yes; it is unusual, I know, but it has al- 
ways been the custom here.” 

“ Bo you usually go ? ” 

“Sometimes. hTo, I am ashamed to say, 
since my return I have seldom been. It is so 
easy to get out of the habit. My father al- 
ways used to attend and I went Avith him.” 

“ Are they pleasant ? What are they like ? ” 

“Why, don’t you ever go?” queried Jean. 

“ Where haA^e I been to go ? ” AA^as the an- 
sAver. “I have often been into the Koman 


240 


JEAN'S OPPORTUNITY, 


Catholic churches and seen the worshippers 
come in, fall on their knees for a few moments, 
and go quietly out. And I was in John Knox’s 
chapel once at a service of that kind, but they 
sung the old arrangement of the Psalms, and 
the few prayers seemed read from a book. I 
was in one in California that was different. 
But years ago, before our own home was 
broken up, I was not much more than a child 
then, my mother used .to take me with her 
sometimes. Not to the large church where 
our family attended, but to a small chapel of 
different denomination where they had a 
young and enthusiastic pastor who recited a 
great deal of poetry, and I enjoyed that. The 
bright, quiet room, the smooth voice and the 
poetry left a pleasant impression. I believed 
in poetry in those days,” and again Jean’s ear 
caught the half-bitter inflection she had no- 
ticed before. 

“Perhaps you would like to go?” Jean 
spoke, with a sudden thought, after a few mo- 
ments of silence. “ Would you ? ” 

“ If you like, — yes.” 

So they went in with others, at the last 
notes of the bell. The long audience-room 
of the church was entered from the front by 
only two or three steps, but the ground sloped 
rapidly, and the large, pleasant social rooms 


A DECISION, 


241 


under it had a side entrance quite a way back, 
and down a few steps. Here were the chapel 
and Sunday-school rooms, with a large parlor 
and study, all arranged with a view of being 
thrown, quite, or nearly into one large space. 

Here, with a gentle ‘‘swish” of summer 
draperies, with quietly modulated words of 
greeting, and smiles and nods, a goodly com- 
pany were coming together. Jean seated her 
friend toward the front on one side, and near 
the desk. Miss Yan Dorm could look down, 
and through the open doorways, upon a quiet 
and reverent audience. She had always been 
too well bred, and her culture was too 
thorough, to have ever admitted of light or 
sneering remarks upon things held sacred, and 
yet she was conscious of a little surprise. 

What refined and thoughtful faces were 
gathering in this simple village church ! of a 
week-day evening, too ! 

The pastor came in presently and took his 
place at the desk. He was still a young man, 
but close study and earnest thought had writ- 
ten their lines upon his face, and his whole 
manner was tender with reverence. 

“ Let us open our meeting,” he said, “ with 
the singing of the hymn, 

« ‘ How firm a foundation, ye saints of the Lord, 

Is laid for your faith in his excellent word.’ ” 


242 


JEAN^S OPPORTUNITY, 


A trained and skillful hand struck the keys of 
the fine piano, and a volume of sound that was 
full of melody rolled upon the evening air. 
By the third line Miss Van Dorm’s musical 
voice had softly joined in ; she could not help 
it. 

“ I shall vary the exercises of this evening,” 
the pastor said, after Scripture reading and 
prayer, “ and make my own part exceedingly 
brief. We have with us to-night, one who 
has stood in the front ranks of the Master’s 
Avork, Avho, hearing the call to a foreign land, 
obeyed, and after ten years of service that has 
been richly croAvned, has returned to this land 
for a brief and needed rest. Miss Hilda Col- 
lum, for ten years a Avorker in India as a mis- 
sionary physician, is Avith us to-night, and Avill 
tell us somewhat of her Avork there. Let us 
sing, 

« * There is a green hill far away, without a city wall, 

AVhere the dear Lord was crucified, who died to save us all. 
AVe may not know, we cannot tell what pains he had to bear ; 
But we believe it was for us he hung and suffered there.’ ” 


Involuntarily, Miss Van Dorm and Jean had 
exchanged glances. Both remembered the 
Avords of the former spoken that day, as to 
women speakers. 

“Isn’t that too bad?” thought Jean. “I 


A DECISION. 


243 


did hope Mr. Eliot would give us one of his 
wisest and best talks. She seemed interested, 
too.” 

It was a different strain they were singing 
now ; not so exultant — softer — and Dolly Yan 
Dorm did not join in it. 

“ The thought I would give you to prepare 
you for Miss Collum’s story of work,” Mr. 
Eliot said then, “ is drawn from the few words, 
‘ Entering into that within the veil.’ Our life 
is made larger by its hopes. In the material 
world, the hopes of men have led them to ex- 
plore new fields, and return conquerors ; so it 
is in spiritual things. It is our hopes that 
give enlargement of life and soul. And it is 
the Christian’s hope that enters into the veil 
beyond, even in this life ; and that, carrying 
its hope with it, enables one to endure priva- 
tions, to labor in weakness and weariness, even 
unto death, for the sake of the glory set be- 
fore it ; that leads it to see in every soul the 
possibility of a jewel for the Master ; it is this 
hope that holds them faithful to the end. Re- 
joicing in this hope, and in the workers whom 
it has inspired, let me introduce to you now. 
Miss Hilda Collum.” 

Quietly, a lady who had been sitting near 
the platform stepped upon it. She was not 
five years older than Miss Yan Dorm, of fine 


244 


JEAN'S OPPORTUNITY, 


presence, simply but tastefully dressed. “ I 
am glad she is so fine looking ; really she has 
quite an ‘air’ about her,” naughty Jean 
thought. 

But in five minutes she had forgotten that ; 
almost forgotten to note her companion’s face. 
It was a plain and simple story that she told, 
but vivid with action, pathetic from suffering, 
and intensely real. When she told them of 
the woman, who, in all her life had never seen 
the sky, and who for the first time saw a star 
and then myriads of them, and exclaimed, 
“ Now I believe the story of a God that you 
tell me. If he could make those shining balls 
he could care for me.” Jean felt her heart 
sing for joy. When she heard of the poor 
young widow only fourteen years old, con- 
demned to a whole life of slavish work, never 
to go outside of the gates, to eat alone, to be 
spoken to only as an outcast, and whom the 
hope in Christ had freed, and who to-day was 
studying in the junior class of a medical col- 
lege in Philadelphia, and who wrote, “ My life 
is consecrated to the work of lifting up the 
poor, benighted women of my own land ; of 
breaking the shackles of prejudice and caste ; 
of helping to bring freedom to a whole race ; 
and so help me God.” There was a stir, a 
rustle, a flash from eye to eye, as though that 


A DECISION. 


245 


audience longed to break its conventional 
bonds, and clap and applaud. Jean would not 
look at Miss Y an Dorm’s face but she chanced 
to glance down where the shapely, gloved 
hands lay in the lap, and noticed that they 
had lost their usual repose and were clasped 
tightly together. 

Miss Collum used the first personal pronoun 
but seldom, she spoke of no hardship or bur- 
den, she made no appeal, she charged with no 
duty. It was a sad story faithfully told, of 
the hidden life of high caste women, to whom 
her profession had proved an open door. 

But when she had finished, the silence was 
almost painful. J^o words were so fitting to 
break it as those Mr. Eliot chose for the final 
hymn, 

My faith looks up to thee, 

Thou Lamb of Calvary, 

Saviour divine : 

Now hear me while I pray. 

Take all my guilt away. 

Oh, let me from this day 
Be wholly thine.” 

Then the benediction was pronounced and 
they went quietly out. 

“ Wasn’t it just lovely ? ” asked one girl be- 
hind them. 

“ Yes,” was the answer. “ It seems Avicked, 


246 


JEAN’S OPPORTUNITY, 


doesn’t it, to think of spending my birthday 
money on that bracelet I have set my heart 
on having ? ” 

“ Yes, but then it will go such a little way. 
One hardly knows what to do these days.” 

Jean did not ask Miss Van Dorm how she 
had enjoyed the evening, and the latter gave 
no sign. They walked home quietly, and, on 
the plea of fatigue from the long, busy day. 
Miss Yan Dorm excused herself at once and 
shut herself into her room. 

And a few moments later she was reading 
again the little card she knew so well by 
heart, 

« Their joy should be to bear his cross and shame : 

Their cure, to pour for others’ wounds a balm ; 

Their rest, to labor grandly ‘ In Ilis Name.’ ” 


It was strange, the hold these words had taken 
upon this woman of the world. At first, only 
adding to her own unrest and dissatisfaction ; 
as the week had gone by she had read their 
meaning clearer. To-night when the lights 
were out, Dolly Yan Dorm knelt long by the 
open window ; and when she lifted her face at 
last into the moonlight, there was in it a new 
peace and joy. 

“It seems an age since I have seen that 
blessed Baby Max,” Lena exclaimed, the next 


A DECISION. 


247 


morning as breakfast was over. “I presume 
he has gained a pound at least. Jean, you are 
going down there this morning, I do hope.” 

“ I ought to,” Jean answered, but she spoke 
with a slight hesitancy and an involuntary 
glance at the older guest. 

“ May I go with you, girls ? ” asked Dolly 
Van Dorm, looking up with her most engag- 
ing smile. 

“ O Dolly ! ” “ Oh, will you ? ” from the 

two girls ; while Mrs. Torrey marched out to 
the kitchen with a whole volume of expres- 
sion in her smile. 

“ A little leaven will raise a whole batch of 
bread, Rinda. That’s Scripture and plain 
English at one and the same time.” 

“Yes, if it’s gen-oo-ine,” returned the hand- 
maiden. “ What’s a raisin’ now ? ” 

“ Miss Yan Dorm is. Asks to go down to 
the academy along with the others.” 

“ Don’t say, now ! Well, I’ve surmised there 
was some good metal there, when it got struck 
out. I was a sweepin’ the piazzy t’other day 
when the two started for there, and I see how 
she dropped her book she was pertendin’ to 
read, and just looked and looked after ’em. 
’Twas a kind o’ hungry look. Oh, yes, I alius 
did say, and I ain’t beyond sayin’ it again, 
that rich girls don’t have half a chance, most 


248 


JEAN’S OPPORTUNITY. 


of ’em, to amount to anything. And I sup- 
pose the Lord knows it, and ’twas one of the 
things he meant when he told us to ‘ bear 
with the infirmities of the weak.’ I’ve never 
been tried in that way.” 

As for Jean, her heart was running over 
with joy, as she showed Miss Van Dorm over 
her domains, and heard the quiet, interested 
questions. Common sense had never been 
lacking in Miss Yan Dorm’s composition ; it had 
been one of her charms. 

They had lost Lena when they came to Baby 
Max. For he greeted her with a crow of de- 
light, and put up his arms to be taken, and not 
even wild horses could have drawn her away 
after that. 

So the two came alone to the chapel floor. 

“This would make a very pleasant home 
room if fitted up,” Dolly said, of the front rec- 
itation-room. “ Some of the room on this 
floor ought to be used and save stairs.” 

“I know it,” Jean answered, “and I mean 
to, if I go on. But you see, the whole idea was 
a sudden one.” 

“And you have done grandly,” Miss Yan 
Dorm said, so heartily that tears sjDrang into 
Jean’s eyes. How she had longed for some 
appreciation from this friend — and had given 
up hoping for it. 


A DECISION. 


249 


“ Thank you,” she said, but her voice was 
tremulous. 

They were standing by the front window. 
It was open, and framed in the long lawn with 
its trees and shaven grass, that sloped to the 
street. Below were the houses, the tree- 
fringed avenues, the steeples, the chimneys, 
that broke up the hillside till it reached the 
lowest valley ; then a short rise beyond that 
swelled into the long, blue range of mountains. 

The soft air fanned their cheeks; the dis- 
tant sounds came pleasantly to their ears. 

Miss Yan Dorm took the girl’s hand and 
drew it gently in her arm and held it close. 

“ Jean, dear,” she said, ‘‘I have a little con- 
fession to make to you this morning. When I 
came to you I was not a happy woman. It 
was no fault of the circumstances of my life ; 
they have always been smiling ; but I think I 
was growing tired of everything, myself most 
of all. I was growing critical and fault-find- 
ing, beginning to call everything a sham. 
The truth was I had no special object in living, 
and nothing pleased me. A young man paid 
devoted attentions to Lena, and for a time I 
feared that her feelings might become in- 
terested, and that made me indignant. He 
was nothing but a society butterfly, but if he 
had been everything desirable I would have 


250 


JEAN'S OPPORTUNITY. 


been no better pleased, perhaps ; though I 
should regret to see her throw herself away in 
an unhappy marriage. But just then I thought 
of myself. I did not care to be a hanger-on in 
any home. I feel the power of being more 
than that. I have often pictured myself as I 
have seen others,” she went on, with a smile, 
“ living in one hotel or another, sitting in the 
parlors or on the porches, fancy work in hand, 
discussing the latest society news or gossip, 
giving for charity balls to quiet an uneasy con- 
science, watching other people’s girls come up, 
marry, and make homes; growing old — yes, 
really old — and no more life than that. Jean, 
do you wonder that I was growing bitter ? ” 

But Jean only dropped a kiss lightly on the 
hand she was fondling. 

“ I have never lived much with people who 
were doing real work in the world,” Miss Yan 
Dorm went on, “ and the few I have seen have 
not always worn it in pleasing guise. We 
were mostly chasing after pleasure, and I fancy 
that is a coy maiden to catch. But, Jean, 
dear, I have learned some new lessons.” 

Jean looked up; the tears were brimming 
over. 

“ I do not know why,” Miss Yan Dorm went 
on, “ but when I first came it annoyed me very 
much to hear you speak of this work.” 


A DECISION, 


251 


“ I feared so,” Jean answered. 

“ But I admired you, dear. I had not been 
with you half an hour when I recognized how 
your character had grown since I met you be- 
fore, and I began to look for the cause. The 
verse you left on my dressing-table disturbed 
me from the first ; I could not understand it. 
Your own motto was plainer but harder to be- 
lieve in. I never felt so rude about anything 
as I have about this work I saw you so in- 
terested in, and I never behaved so rudely as in 
not showing any interest.” But that Jean 
would not admit. 

“ I have grown worse and worse,” Dolly per- 
sisted. “ Everything seemed intended for me. 
And it seemed so strange,” she admitted, 
frankly, “to be with people whose first 
thought was to do for others ; who held it a 
duty. Why, at Madam Nye’s, even that shy 
Miss Storms had a lesson for me ; she opened 
her dear little heart and told me that her great 
desire was to have an education that she might 
help others. I stood convicted. And when I 
grew interested, and encouraged her, Jean, 
and she told me that I had ‘helped’ her, I 
think they were the sweetest words any one 
had evw said to me in my life. I began to 
understand where you found your happiness, 
and to wish for the same. And last night, 


252 


JEAN^S OPPORTUNITY. 


Jean, Avas the crown of all. Think of a 
woman being able to help souls,” and Dolly 
Yan Dorm’s voice grew very tender, “and 
losing her privilege in seeking her OAvn pleas- 
ure. I went home, dear, and promised God 
that my time and service and money should be 
henceforth used first for him. Now, will you let 
me begin a little with you ? I have very much 
to learn, for I have throAvn away many years.” 

And the two lingered long that morning by 
the open window, talking of many plans and 
hopes, and when they went out another had 
been born into the blessed kingdom of work. 


CHAPTER XYL 


WHAT ONE OUGHT. 

“ I WANT to introduce you to the rest of my 
family now,” Jean said, when their confiden- 
tial talk was over, and they went out into the 
hall together. 

It was not so quiet a house as a few weeks 
before. From the basement came the clatter 
of dishes and the voices of Maggie and Mrs. 
McGovern, busy at their morning duties. Tom 
was carrying water to the second floor ; doors 
were opening and closing ; through the open 
windows came the chatter of the Parsons 
group playing at “keeping house,” out under 
the trees. 

“Happy as so many queens, with their 
broken china and bits of glass,” Miss Yan 
Dorm said, as they stopped to look out. “ Why, 
I have judged from my observations, that 
enough could not be done to make children 
happy, and then the point was not gained. 
They were still like the rest of the world, 
longing for ‘more.’ ” 

“You are being introduced to simpler con- 

253 


254 


JEAN’S OPPORTUNITY. 


ditions,” said Jean, laughing, ‘‘coming near to 
the naturalness of things.” 

“ It must be restful,” returned her friend. 

They found Lena in Ma’am Ely’s room, ex- 
cited and busy over Baby Max. “ Sister, J ean, 
this baby is going to have new things before 
this day is over, — that is, if Jean does not ob- 
ject.” 

“ Do anything you wish, my dear, now and 
evermore, for that wonderful child,” Jean re- 
turned. 

“Then I shall get him a new cap and a 
coach, this very day, and he shall sit under 
the trees with the others.” 

“Why, he has been out there, my dear, 
every pleasant day.” 

“Yes, in a starch box,” scornfully. “My 
laddie must go in more state than that.” 

“ A chariot and six if you wish, dear. Mrs. 
Ely, this is my friend. Miss Yan Dorm,” Jean 
put in, “ she is coming to help us here.” 

“ The Lord bless you, dearie,” the old lady 
said, gently. “ Your sister has talked much 
and often of you. It’s a blessing to have sis- 
ters ; I had five.” 

“And all gone?” Miss Yan Dorm asked, 
taking a seat beside her. 

“All waiting beyond, dearie. We had a 
Christian father and mother, and were brought 


WHAT ONE OUGHT. 


255 


up to serve God. And they all went young, 
twenty-three was the oldest. I was the third 
girl and the only one who ever married. But 
they have been with me, the bright, happy 
girls, always; and I’ve wondered about the 
‘ many mansions ’ they’ve entered into, and 
what kind of a greeting they’ll have for me ; 
and now since I can do little but wait, they 
often seem very near. Yes, a true sister’s the 
Lord’s gift.” 

The girls were busy discussing the cap and 
coach, while the others had their sober chat. 
Then Jean led her friend away. 

“I shall come again, soon, if you will let 
me,” Miss Yan Dorm said. “Jean, what a 
face of peace ! and in poverty, too ! ” as they 
were alone in the hall. 

Mrs. Parsons and family had the first two 
rooms in the front of the long hall ; Mrs. Bly 
the next; then Marne Edson. On the other 
side, and at the further end, two rooms opened 
together, and were given to the Smiths. Op- 
posite, in a room fitted up with odds and ends, 
Jaky slept. He was away from early morn- 
ing until eight in the evening, earning his fifty 
cents daily. 

Jean tapped at the Smith door ; as they en- 
tered, a quiet picture greeted them. In a large 
chair sat Mrs. Smith, with quiet, pleasant face, 


256 


JEAN^S OPPORTUNITY. 


and hands busy in sewing. By the window, 
also sewing, was Miss Smith. The “ forelady ” 
was picking up in these days of rest; that 
showed already. On a hassock beside her was 
Marne Edson, book in hand. And, against the 
pillows of the single bed, Avas propped the 
lovely face of Jessie Smith, the invalid. 

The unusual journey had proved too much 
for her strength, and after the excitement Avas 
OA^er she had been obliged to lie still Avith ach- 
ing back and head. But she greeted the call- 
ers with a bright smile. 

“ How are you feeling this morning ? ” asked 
Jean. 

“ Better, thank you. I am to be alloAved to 
sit in the large chair this afternoon, and close 
to the AvindoAV, too,” she added, with almost 
childish eagerness. “I think I can pretty 
nearly pick leaves for myself,” pointing to a 
mountain ash tree that almost swept the glass 
Avith its branches. 

“Reading, Miss Edson?” Jean asked, after 
all Avere seated. 

“Yes, no; Miss Smith says I must improve 
my mind while I have so much playtime,” and 
Marne smiled up at her forelady. 

“ ‘ Hygiene, Proper care of one’s self,’ ” read 
Jean. 

“Yes, that is Avhat our girls mostly need,” 


WHAT ONE OUGHT. 


257 


remarked Miss Smith, “ so I persuaded Marne 
to read aloud to us for a while.” 

“ I’d like a story better,” the girl remarked. 
“ But, after all,” more seriously, “ it is nice to 
know new things. I never had an idea we 
were made up of so many tissues and such. 
But you ought to see how interested Mrs. Par- 
sons is ; and such funny questions as she asks. 
Why, she seems most starved to know more.” 

Jean was looking very thoughtful. Was 
there another kind of hunger for her yet to 
meet ? 

“ Have you been up on the hill yet, Miss 
Smith ? ” she asked, presently. 

“ Oh, yes, Marne has introduced me to her 
choice views ; she couldn’t be happy without.” 

“ They ought to be there at this moment,” 
put in the invalid. Helen should be out of 
doors every moment, but she will not leave 
me as much as she ought. Miss Hallock, 
please command her to go, and mother, too. I 
can stay alone just as well as not.” 

“ There, there, daughter,” the mother said. 
« Why, it seems to me with that open window, 
and the fresh air that comes in all day, that I 
am out of doors. I have not had so much 
since I lived in the country. And, as for 
climbing stone walls and rail fences, as those 
girls do, why I haven’t any desire to do that,” 


258 


JEAN’S OPPORTUNITY, 


laughing. “And when you grow strong, as 
you are going to do, daughter, so that you can 
walk downstairs, we will sit under the trees 
all day long if you wish.” 

“ If we have time,” the girl said, softly. 

Then Jean thought quickly. Miss Smith’s 
vacation only extended until Monday, and it 
was Wednesday already. Ino wonder the in- 
valid was counting the days and measuring 
her strength. “You and your mother are not 
limited in your time,” she said, in her most 
“ taking ” way. “ I expect to keep you here 
as long as you can be contented. Miss Smith, 
wouldn’t it be possible for you to content 
yourself with another boarding-place for a 
while?” 

“ Indeed it would,” Miss Smith returned, 
promptly. “ I should be only too happy to 
do so.” 

As for the invalid, how her eyes shone. 
“Do you really mean it. Miss Hallock? For 
us to stay here longer, mother and I ? ” 

“ Just as long as you can. Miss Jessie. 
Certainly until you get strong enough not 
only to sit, but even to walk out under the 
trees.” 

“You will, mother, won’t you?” begged 
the sick girl. 

“ I shall enjoy it just as much as you will, 


WHAT ONE OUGHT. 


259 


Jessie, and we will thank Miss Hallock in the 
best way that we can by growing strong. 
Jessie has never had such a chance before,” 
she went on, “ though the doctors have said it 
would be a great factor in a cure for her.” 

There was something very gentle and re- 
fined about this lady, for such she evidently 
was, however plain her dress or work-worn her 
hands. 

“ I am delighted that that matter is settled,” 
Jean added. “I shall anticipate taking you 
both on some of our lovely drives when you 
are stronger. We are’ very proud of our views 
in Williston.” 

“And well they may be,” commented Miss 
Yan Dorm. And then in some way the con- 
versation drifted to views, grand, and noted, and 
Jean sat quiet with the others and listened to 
Miss Yan Dorm. Every one enjoyed listening 
to her. She saw everything so thoroughly, 
and had a way of setting it clearly before you, 
with little sparkles of humor or pathos. 

“ Oh, what a lovely journey I have had,” the 
invalid said, drawing a long breath. “Most 
equal to standing there myself.” 

They all laughed at that. “ You have given 
us all a great pleasure,” Mrs. Smith added ; her 
eyes had followed Miss Yan Dorm with a 
close scrutiny ; now she said, “ Pardon me, but 


260 


JEAN'S OPPORTUNITY. 


Yan Dorm is not a common name. May I 
ask what was your mother’s name ? ” 

“ Lena Carruth,” Dolly answered, promptly. 

Mrs. Smith smiled brightly. “ I hoped so, 
though I could not dare to hardly. I knew 
your mother, Miss Yan Dorm.” 

“ Oh, did you ? Where ? ” 

‘‘She was at school once at Lindenwood 
Seminary ? ” 

“Yes, I have heard so; I really remember 
very little of my mother, Mrs. Smith. I was 
fourteen when she died, but she was in deli- 
cate health for several years, and my father, 
who idolized her, constantly took her from 
one place to another in pursuit of health, so I 
saw but little of her.” 

“ But that little must be very pleasant, Miss 
Yan Dorm.” 

“ Oh, she seems to me like an angel, Mrs. 
Smith. So sweet, and gentle, and smiling.” 

“ She was all that. Miss Yan Dorm.” 

“ And you knew her, Mrs. Smith ? ” 

“Yes, an aunt who had bestowed upon me 
the beautiful name of Hulda, atoned for it a 
little by leaving me a few hundred dollars 
when she died, and my parents said it should 
be used to fit me for a teacher, so I was sent 
for two years to Lindenwood, then quite a 
noted school. Your mother came at the be- 


WHAT ONE OUGHT, 


261 


ginning of my second year, but we were to- 
gether in one or two classes. I noticed her 
sweet face and lovely dress and admired both. 
She was always smiling and happy, and made 
me think of a rosebud in her delicate, pretty 
color.” 

“Yes, Lena has that. She is more like 
mamma, anyway, they say. See her now,” 
glancing out of the window to where Lena 
had carried Max and deposited him in the de- 
spised starch box, and then was laughing 
merrily with the children while they trimmed 
him and his conveyance with wild flowers. 
“ Pardon me, Mrs. Smith. Go on, please.” 

“We were in French together, and one day 
after class, going back to the classroom for 
something, I found your mamma sobbing as if 
her heart would break, by the window. I 
could not help it, I put my arm around her 
and asked if I could help her. She told her 
trouble sweetly, as she did everything. The 
professor had kept her after class ; he was a 
pompous, fretful little man but a good in- 
structor, and told her she must do better or he 
should give her ‘ bad mark, ze very bad mark, 
indeed.’ I had not read as much French as 
she, but I had been thoroughly taught in 
grammar, so I could help her over many of 
her troubles, and that was the beginning of a 


262 


JEAN'S OPPORTUNITY. 


very pleasant acquaintance for me. She had 
such a sunny disposition, and shared all her 
sunshine as well as her bonbons with others. 
I knew that she married a Van Dorm ; I heard 
that through another schoolmate, and then I 
lost trace of her. She was a girl of true Chris- 
tian principle, too,” and Mrs. Smith lifted her 
eyes quietly to the beautiful face so attentive 
to her. 

“ I wish I might be like her in that also,” 
Miss Van Dorm said, quietly ; “ to me she has 
always been the dream of things pure and 
holy. I have missed my mothering, Mrs. 
Smith. Who can tell what I might have been 
with that ? Will you tell me more, some time, 
Mrs. Smith, when my sister can hear also ? ” 
rising. “ I am afraid we will tire our invalid 
with more now.” 

How prettily she had said that; “our in- 
valid;” Jean felt like hugging her on the 
spot. 

“ As Miss Smith cannot wait long for her 
good times,” Jean said now, “I am going to 
ask her to ride with me to-morrow morning ; 
I mean to take these friends on a long drive 
and we will start early ; will you go ? ” 

“Let me amend that,” Miss Yan Dorm put 
in. “ I am going to ask Mrs. Smith to go in 
my place and let me come and sit with Miss 


WJIAT ONE OUGHT, 


263 


Jessie. I will do my best to fill her place, 
Miss Jessie.” 

Mrs. Smith protested, but the invalid joined 
in the persuasions and so it was finally ar- 
ranged. 

“Jean,” Miss Yan Dorm said, as they came 
again to the room on the first floor, “ an idea 
has struck me. I am going to ask if you will 
let me have this room to fit up just as I please. 
Then you will have a reminder of me contin- 
ually, of us, I mean,” for Lena had joined 
^ them. “ Will you ? ” 

And Jean yielded gracefully. Perhaps 
there was just a trifle of feeling in giving up 
any of “ my own work,” but if so, it was sub- 
dued. And when Lena flew around in ecstasy, 
measuring, planning, and making impossible 
suggestions, the last trace vanished and hence- 
forth she was willing to share her “good 
things,” also. 

After dinner she drove for her friends to 
the furniture store and left them while she did 
her own errands elsewhere. Then she drove 
around to Mr. Shearer’s. That gentleman 
began a little brusquel3^ 

“Spending right and left as usual. Miss 
Jean, I see by the bills coming in.” 

“ Going beyond my bank account, Mr. 
Shearer ? ” 


264 


JEAN'S OPPORTUNITY. 


“Hum! Oughtn’t to be coming near the 
end. Ought to be laying up.” 

“ So I am, sir.” 

“ Where, pray ? ” 

“ Oh, in safe investments. Let’s see, isn’t it 
a hundredfold that’s promised ? ” 

“ How much more are you purposing to do. 
Miss Jean?” 

“ I do not know, sir. My work is only day 
by day work as yet. I am learning some 
things. Have I used my income this sum- 
mer?” 

“Yery nearly. You will have no dividends 
from the bonds this year, as they have de- 

cided to carry all to the surplus fund. That 
will make quite a difference.” 

‘‘ But I want more work done on the build- 
ings, Mr. Shearer. The house must be repaired 
or there will be loss on it. Papa spoke of 
that at least two years ago. Will you tell me 
now how I stand ? ” 

And the lawyer, having eased his conscience, 
spread the papers before her, and for an hour 
answered questions, gave advice and sugges- 
tions, all that the girl could desire. 

“ Sensible girl, that, after all,” he confided 
to his spouse that night ; “ lots of the judge’s 
common sense and business about her. Sight 
wiser than wasting on gewgaws, or throwing 


WHAT ONE OUGHT, 


265 


it away at some swell watering place; isn’t 
that what they call them ? though I surmise 
there’s more of other things than water at 
some of them.” 

And the “ duck of a woman ” merely turned 
so that she could see her own smile in the 
glass, a smile that had so much of “ I knew 
that all the time ” in it. 

Jean repeated some of the results of her con- 
versation with Mr. Shearer to Miss Yan Dorm, 
closing — “And so I shall not enlarge more 
this year. Of course, I hope this is not the end 
of the academy work, by any means. I have 
fully resolved now to carry out papa’s inten- 
tion and form a permanent home of some kind 
there, and all the things I have gathered will 
come into use. But just now I must take time 
and counsel to decide. Now we will try to 
build up the ailing ones we have there ; I am 
beginning to see that even a little, done day by 
day for him, may be the best of work. I want 
only one more ; that is Mrs. Storms. How can 
we manage to get her ? ” 

That was a matter Madam Nye did not let 
them forget, but for which no one had any 
answer at present. It came to them at last. 

They were gathered, Jean, the two Miss Yan 
Dorms and Ethel, on Saturday morning, in the 
room Miss Yan Dorm had asked to be permit- 


26G 


JEAN^S OPPORTUNITY, 


ted to fit up. They had met to “ dedicate it,” 
Ethel said ; to plan for a little entertainment 
they were to give on Monda}^ evening in the old 
chapel. So many of Jean’s friends had begged, 
“Do let us help you, Jean. We want to do 
something,” that this was to be the outcome. 

Besides, was there ever’a time when girls did 
not like to get together and “get up” some- 
thing. 

They had exhausted their exclamations over 
the pretty room, that was only now open to 
“ the public ” for the first time ; said “ public ” 
consisting of Jean and Ethel. 

For the two days previous the Misses Yan 
Dorm had had a taste of entirely new pleas- 
ures. On Thursday the paperhangers had 
come, and covered the walls and ceiling with 
plain paper of a delicate faAvn tint, set off by a 
handsome border of trailing vines and fiowers. 
Then the next day came the man from the 
furniture store, and the two girls worked with 
him, and behind closed doors. They could not 
even take time to go up to dinner, but feasted 
on Maggie’s good bread, baked potatoes and 
codfish cooked in cream. 

“ I don’t think anything ever tasted half as 
good in all my life as that dinner,” Lena con- 
fided to Jean. 

At which Jean laughed, “ Hunger is a good 


WUAT ONE OUGHT. 


267 


sauce, my dear,” and went on her way smiling. 
“How perfectly lovely” these friends were, 
anyway. 

“ I am going to have a carpet, Jean,” Miss 
Yan Dorm had said, “because it will wear 
much longer than matting, I presume ; but I 
will promise not to be extravagant in that line. 
Indeed, I shall indulge in but one extrava- 
gance. That you must permit to me;” and 
for that there had been some correspondence 
not yet submitted to the “ public.” 

How the floor was covered with a carpet of 
the same soft tone as the walls, on which grace- 
ful vines and delicate flowers were scattered. 
The windows had shades to match, and white 
muslin curtains were looped back from these. 
There were several cane rockers, two or three 
upholstered easy-chairs, a wide couch that 
could be transformed into a bed ; a small, but 
solid table held a large reading lamp ; a plain, 
oak writing desk stood open in one corner, and 
above that a bracket lamp ; smaller chairs and 
hassocks were scattered about ; a square mirror 
hung over a mantel, on which was draped a 
pretty lambrequin and on which stood two or 
three vases and ornaments and a small clock ; 
and an order to the florist had brought a half 
dozen flowering plants that gave quite a home 
air to the whole. 


2G8 


JEAN'S OPPORTUNITY. 


“Perfect!” Jean had exclaimed, when her 
eyes had taken it all in. “ Oh, you darlings ! ” 

“A very symphony in color!” Ethel had 
followed. “ Expression fails me.” 

“ Cease to labor with words then,” advised 
Miss Yan Dorm, “and come to the real busi- 
ness of the meeting.” 

“ Max Levison is coming back to-night,” said 
Ethel, perched on the head of the couch, “ and 
he will be perfect for the character of John 
Alden. That pensive, scholarly head of his 
will bear the style well.” 

“And Herbert Liscomb will sustain the 
doughty Miles Standish with equal effect,” 
put in Jean. 

And so on for some time the girls arranged 
for tableaux, charade, or song. 

“ I see that I shall have to confess my little 
mystery,” Dolly said, when the question of 
accompaniment was being discussed. “ I told 
you, Jean, that I would be guilty of but one 
extravagance. It is this ; I have ordered an 
upright piano, and a letter this morning says 
it is purchased and will probably reach Willis- 
ton this evening.” 

She got no further with her sentence ; the 
three girls fell upon her like amiable wolves 
and devoured her with kisses and caresses. 

“That crowns everything,” Jean said, when 


WHAT ONE OUGHT. 


269 


order was restored. “I^ow my happiness is 
complete.” 

“JSTow we will get Mabel to sing ‘The 
Brook,’ she renders that just lovely ; and Fan- 
nie will give two of her comic songs, and. Miss 
Yan Dorm — ” turning toward her with be- 
seeching in her eyes. 

“Anything you wish,” was the gracious 
answer. 

“ Then our program Avill be complete,” from 
Jean. 

“And everybody get the worth of their 
money,” from Ethel, at which all laughed. 

“Only,” Jean went on, “who will read the 
poem ? I declare, fine readers are scarcer than 
good musicians.” 

“ Lena could do it, but she is Priscilla and 
could not well take both.” 

It was Miss Yan Dorm who finally broke 
into the discussion with a remark that brought 
entire silence for a moment. 

“ I will tell you,” she said, “ who is a nat- 
ural and very effective reader.” 

“Who?” 

“Miss Edson. That morning that I spent 
with Miss Jessie, while you were gone to ride, 
I went quietly down the hall and came to 
their door without being heard. Miss Edson 
was reading aloud ; the door was open, and I 


270 


JEAN’S OPPORTUNITY. 


waited listening until she finished, for she was 
almost through. She was reading Lowell’s 
‘ Sir Launfal,’ and I never heard it given bet- 
ter. Why, the girl’s soul seemed to be speak- 
ing. How she would do before an audience, 
of course I could not say; but if as well as 
that, she would charm the house.” 

“Let us ask her,” said Jean. 

“ Of course,” from the other two. 

“ You and Lena go and see her then, Ethel,” 
remarked Jean, “and I will write notes to 
the girls. A rehearsal this evening, shall it 
be?” 

“Yes.” 

“Except for the music,” from Miss Yan 
Dorm. “The piano will not be placed here 
before Monday, I presume.” 

“Well, we are not asking anything new in 
that, so it does not matter. Only, Miss Smith 
must go by early train Tuesday morning and 
we want to give her this pleasure first.” 

“ How that little woman has improved,” re- 
marked Ethel, “ and she is as nice as she can 
be, anyway.” 

“Jean,” Miss Yan Dorm said, when the two 
were left, “how would it do to invite Mrs. 
Storms here to spend a day after the enter- 
tainment? We will give her this room, and 
then, perhaps, we can prevail on her to pass 


WHAT ONE OUGHT. 


271 


the night ; the couch is fitted for that, you 
know.” 

“Yes, and Maggie sleeps in that small room 
right back of the stairs, and Maggie used to 
live with her and thought everything of her. 
We will try ; it’s a splendid idea.” 

The girls came back successful. “ Miss Ed- 
son will do it ; Lena read it over with her, and 
now she has taken the book and gone out to 
the woods to practice.” 

“And how glad Miss Smith was for the 
thought,” added Lena. “ She came down the 
hall with us and said that would do Marne 
more good than a score of her lectures, and a 
bushel of advice. To let her have a place for 
once, among nice things, and a responsible 
part in it, was worth so much more than look- 
ing on from beyond the foot-lights ; and she 
said Marne was crazy for ‘good times.’ Well, 
I suppose we should be, too, only we have 
them all the time without any chance to long 
for them,” Lena added, thoughtfully. 

“That is true enough,” commented Jean, 
“and it reminds me, cannot we find some- 
thing for Agnes Storms to do ? 

“Why, she is just what we want for the 
‘Hanging of the Crane;’ with her solemn, 
grey eyes, as though she were looking with a 
prophet’s ken into the future. And she used 


272 


JEAN^S OPPORTUNITY. 


to be a good reader or reciter, too, don’t you 
remember, Ethel ? ” 

“ She is now,” from Ethel. “ She is the 
best reader in the Endeavor meetings ; they 
always give her the longest passages.” 

“And she will not require dress for that 
part,” went on Jean. “Only to be draped in 
black, and not much of the face to show. I 
am so glad we thought of her.” 

“ May we be the messengers again ? ” asked 
Lena. 

“Yes, Billy is at the door. Take her and 
hurry back,” and again the two were left 
alone together. 

“Jean, dear,” Miss Yan Borm broke the 
silence that only the swift gliding of a pen 
had interrupted, “I am recognizing a fact, that 
if all entertainments were gotten up in the 
spirit with which you girls are arranging this, 
there would not be quite so much bitterness 
and uncomfortableness at the end, as there 
often is. It’s the following out of the higher 
law, is it not ? ” 

But Jean only answered, “Why, it is only 
what we ought to do, I suppose.” 


CHAPTER XYII. 


STILL MORE. 

You will not be surprised to learn that the 
impromptu “ An evening with the poets, and 
song,” as it was ambitiously announced, proved 
a grand success. 

People in Williston, like the rest of the 
world, were made up of good, bad, and indif- 
ferent. They usually rose up in the morning 
filled with their own plans and wishes for the 
day; but if any one was brave enough, and 
full enough of it, to set before them work that 
was unselfish and had a thought for othei's in it, 
they could be quickly and heartily interested. 
This work of Jean’s had been more talked of 
than she would have imagined. It had roused 
unaccustomed feelings; there was more than 
curiosity in the large company that gathered. 

“ It seems to me,” old Mrs. Stayput had said 
when she first heard of it, “ that young people 
in these days take a great deal upon them- 
selves. The idea that we have never taken 
proper measures to care for our poor, until 
these young chits get together, and pick out 
certain ones, as they fancy, to pamper and 

273 


274 


JEAN'S OPPORTUNITY. 


spoil them, so as to make them discontented 
for the rest of their lives with the station in 
which it has pleased providence to place them. 
I do not approve of it.” 

“ Let me see,” remarked her daughter-in- 
law, pricking her embroidery and speech at 
the same time, “ haven’t I heard you say, that 
you and that old Mrs. Ely went to the district 
school together when you were children ? ” 

“ Well, what if we did ? ” 

“ And they say,” the younger went on, “ that 
she is growing better every week. Dr. Lam- 
beth says her troubles are largely neuralgic, 
and the rest from that noisy brood of children 
and the overworking she is always doing is 
effecting wonders for her.” 

“ Humph ! ” was the only return to this in- 
formation. 

“And it does seem to me,” Mrs. Shearer 
was confiding to a friend about that same 
time, “as if the girls of these days, some of 
them, I mean, were making such use of their 
opportunities as puts us older ones entirely to 
shame. Look at that blessed Jean Hallock, 
for instance.” 

“But she has plenty of money,” was the 
answer. 

“Well, isn’t the temptation to give that and 
her time, too, to foolishness, all the greater ? 


STILL MORE. 


275 


Instejid of that she’s giving a good deal more 
than money ; she’s doing her best for others ; 
and she’s led that grand Miss Van Dorm into 
the same way, till she’s ’most as interested as 
Jean herself.” 

But Mrs. Stayput Avas in a front seat of the 
old chapel when the evening came, and, per- 
haps it was memories hovering about the 
place, but certainly, her Avorld-Avorn face 
seemed softened, and the daughter-in-law be- 
side her had lost a few of the habitual wrin- 
kles about lip and eye. 

“ It seems good to come in again at the old 
door, Lyman,” Judge Marsh remarked, settling 
his portly form on one of the narroAV seats. 
“ I remember Avhen I didn’t fill this desk quite 
as Avell as now, eh.” 

“ That was Avhen you were learning to con- 
jugate ‘ Amo,’ Avith your eyes across the aisle,” 
returned the minister addressed. 

“Bless me! Couldn’t go through a Latin 
verb noAV to save my head,” and the judge 
laughed. “ Seems to me Ave spend most of our 
lives in learning things to forget,” he added. 

Soon the seats Avere crowded, the aisles Avere 
filled, the hall beyond Avas packed. The mov- 
able platform Avas rolled across one corner 
near the entrance, and Maggie’s room behind 
the stairs served as Avaiting-room, while a 


276 


JEAN'S OPPORTUNITY. 


curtain across that end of the hall made a pas- 
sage to the rear recitation-room used as a 
robing room. 

It was, as said, an ‘‘ evening with the poets,” 
in which charades or tableaux set forth the 
text. First, came the “ Songs of Seven,” in 
which, from the smiling child to the silvering 
head of mature life, the parts were well sus- 
tained and recited. Then a brilliant piano solo 
from Lena Yan Dorm. Longfellow’s exquisite 
“ Hanging of the Crane,” next elicited much 
praise; the scene, an old-fashioned fireplace, 
(made by the carpenter from wood) in which 
was hung the iron crane holding a new, shining 
copper kettle. Beside it, but half-hidden, stood 
the seeress, who read in clear, melodious tone — 

“ The lights are out, and gone are all the guests 
That thronging came with merriment and jests 
. To celebrate the hanging of the crane 
In the new house — into the night are gone ; 

But still the fire upon the hearth burns on, 

And I alone remain.” 

The next scene showed a small table at 
which two were seated alone ; love was in 
their eyes — happiness on their brows, and 
partly concealed by a screen the seeress mused 
aloud — 

“ For two alone, there in the hall 
Is spread the table round and small ; ” — 


STILL MORE. 


277 


Scene third, Baby Max had been added to 
the table group, and sat in his high chair — 

“ A little angel unaware, 


Drums on the table with his spoon,” — 

Only, in his wonder at his first introduction 
to social life. Max failed entirely to drum, but 
with spoon uplifted, stared with round-eyed 
wonder, and still delicate face, at the unusual 
sights. 

But it was a wonderful occasion to his ad- 
miring family seated in a row on the front 
corner seats reserved for the academy family, 
and when his little part was over, no less than 
seven pairs of arms were outstretched for him. 
It was to Jaky’s that his own were reached. 

“ Who was that seeress ? ” was the question, 
when the last scene of this poem was over. 
“ The part was certainly well read.” 

“ That was Agnes Storms,” Madam Mye re- 
sponded, in a by no means inaudible tone. 
“ Granddaughter of my old friend, Agnes Lake. 
And I remember, you do, too, do you not. 
Judge Marsh, what a fine reader we all 
thought Agnes Lake? Her granddaughter 
seems to have inherited her talent.” 

Madam Hye could say what she pleased in 
Williston. People had rather forgotten Agnes 


278 


JEAN^S OPPORTUNITY. 


Storms of late ; she had been so confined at 
home, and the income of the merchant’s clerk 
was so small. 

But the most highly applauded renderings 
of the evening were the “ Courtship of Miles 
Standish,” and the singing of Miss Yan Dorm. 
A carefully selected arrangement of the court- 
ship had been chosen, and Maine Edson seemed 
to forget audience and self, and read as though 
the scene were before her, with a naturalness 
far beyond “ elocution,” that was refreshing. 
And Lena as a simple Puritan maiden was 
charming. Truth compels us to admit, that 
Max Levison, with his sunny, boyish face, and 
fair hair, who personated the messenger, John 
Alden, played the part of a wooer with striking 
effect. 

Miss Yan Dorm had never sung for ‘‘charity 
effects ” before, she had looked at them askance, 
and gave quite a little thought to her se- 
lections ; though one would never have dreamed 
that ; they were so simple. The first, an Al- 
pine song, with the mountain girl’s clear calls 
that we fear no native-born mountaineer could 
have attained ; then for the two encores, sim- 
ple ballads of love and home, that left the 
audience quiet, and with thoughtful pictures in 
their hearts. 

“’Most seemed, when Miss Yan Dorm was 


STILL MORE. 


279 


singing to-night,” Kinda confided to her spouse, 
when they were alone, “ as though our courtin’ 
days was back again. Those was days when I 
used to think how I’d just make you the best 
wife any man ever had had. Ho scoldin’s, 
nor ja win’s, nor anything of that sort, and the 
buttons sewed on faithful ; though nobody can 
say but I’ve done that last, thanks be,” and 
the buxom dame stabbed a single hairpin into 
her pug for its night arrangement, while her 
voice shook suspiciously. 

But Mark laid a brown and toil-worn hand 
on the trembling shoulder. “It hain’t ever 
seemed to me, Kinda, as though those days 
was over,” he said; and being a quiet man 
that meant much, and his wife knew it. 

A night or two after, when the two were 
left in full possession of the house, Kinda sur- 
reptitiously carried a volume of Longfellow’s 
poems from the library shelves to her swept 
and dusted kitchen, and while she was busy in 
repairing men’s wear, Mark read through, and 
with evident enjoyment, the “ Hanging of the 
Crane.” 

“ Well,” was the good woman’s comment at 
the close, “there’s folks and folks in this 
Avorld. Why some of us are made to feel 
pretty things inside and couldn’t say a word 
about ’em to save our heads, I don’t see ; and 


280 


JEAN'S OPPORTUNITY. 


others’ll trip ’em off as easy as I whisk «p 
whites o’ eggs for frosting; and there they 
be, just what they ought to. It passes me, 
that I do say, but it’s dreadful nice anyway.” 

“ When do you return to foreign parts. Max ? ” 
Madam Hye had asked of young Levison, as 
the crowd were leaving the hall that night. 

“Hot at all, madam. When a fellow has 
only one mother, and that a pretty frail little 
one, and she sets such store by her only boy, 
it gives a different look to things. I’ve con- 
cluded there’s plenty to learn on this side the 
water, so here I stay and try to make a good 
American citizen.” 

“ Couldn’t do a better thing with yourself,” 
returned the lady, “and I am glad to hear 
your decision.” 

“O Miss Yan Dorm!” had exclaimed a 
gushing lady whose plumes waved the highest, 
and whose voice was of the loudest, “I do 
hope you are not going to leave Williston 
soon, I really do.” 

“ Ho,” was the quiet reply, “ we have taken 
board at the hotel, and shall remain for some 
time.” 

“Oh, I am delighted to hear it; I am in- 
deed. It will be a great acquisition. How 
delightful ! ” 

And Mrs. Storms had come the next day 


STILL MORE. 


281 


after the entertainment. It was almost be- 
yond her hope when Jean went to give the in- 
vitation, and probably it would not have been 
successful had it not been for the “ counting 
in ” of Agnes. 

For these people belonged to that super- 
sensitive class whose feelings must always be 
taken into account. 

Not a small number by any means, but here 
circumstances had fostered the growth. 

But the invitation was very tempting. The 
trip was just far enough not to alarm her. 
Old associations and pleasant memories tugged 
at her heart strings. It would be pleasant to 
be in the old places again. 

Still, it was a very pale and trembling in- 
valid that Jean found when she came on Tues- 
day morning with Billy and the phaeton. 

“ The most gentle horse in the world,” Jean 
said, as Billy ventured to prick up her ears 
and look at something, and Mrs. Storms turned 
nervously. 

They drove slowly ; it was still early of a 
beautiful morning, and the fresh air fulfilled 
its mission of unconscious cheer. When they 
drove up to Madam Nye’s side door a faint 
flush had come to the pale cheek, and she 
smiled brightly at her mother’s friend. 


282 


JEAN'S OPPORTUNITY. 


“ l^ow you are going to gain right along,” 
said the elder lady. “ One has to be quite a 
way up before they can really use the means 
for full recovery. When they get where they 
can do that health is pretty well assured. 
Only, my dear, just rest and enjoy yourself. 
Leave your worries. God is in his heaven 
still. Eemember that.” 

They stayed and talked for quite a Avhile ; 
they made one or two more calls at doors, and 
the warm greetings and rejoicings did the long 
time “ shut-in ” good. 

“How kind everybody is,” she said, with 
more animation than she had spoken for a 
long time. 

When they reached the academy door she 
walked up the steps quite actively. 

“ It is just as lovely here as ever,” she said, 
turning to take in the view. “ Oh, what good 
times I have had here,” turning to the hall. 
“ And this old recitation-room ! ” as they en- 
tered the pretty parlor. “ It does not look 
much as it used when it had only a row of 
benches around the sides, and I came in trem- 
bling with algebra in hand. Oh, I do wish 
Agnes could have the chance I had then.” 

Miss Yan Dorm came in and gave her best 
greeting. Then, after she had looked about a 
little, the}^ prevailed on her to lie on the couch 


STILL MORE. 


2<3 


and Maggie brought her a cup of coffee and 
dainty slices of bread and butter. 

“ Why, Maggie, this seems like old times,” 
the invalid said. “Why, if everybody is so 
good to me, I shall not wish to leave you at 
all.” 

But they did not tell her of all their plan at 
once. They left that until late afternoon, and 
to Madam Nye. Mrs. Storms had insisted on 
going down to dinner, and had found in Mrs. 
Smith some one who knew a cousin of her 
own, and the two had enjoyed a pleasant visit 
after. 

“I hope you will stay with us quite a 
while,” Mrs. Smith said as she left the room. 

“ Oh, no, I am only going to spend the 
day,” was the reply. 

JS^o one knew what arguments Madam ITye 
used to prevail upon her to make a longer 
tarry. She was persuaded at last. “Every- 
body is so kind,” she said again. 

But when the long day filled with its small 
excitements was over, then the delicate frame 
and active nerves revenged themselves. Mrs. 
Smith had made her a long call, she had read a 
little, Maggie came in to help her to bed. 
Then the large house grew quiet; the chil- 
dren’s voices ceased in the halls ; the moon 
looked in on her. For awhile the invalid lay 


284 


JEAN^S OPPORTUNITY, 


quiet too ; the pleasant scenes of the day flit- 
ted before her active brain ; she was stronger, 
oh, so much stronger; soon, she could assume 
care again ; Agnes should study, she was not 
too old yet; Lottie should have every advan- 
tage. She was almost slipping away to dream- 
land; something roused her; her eyes Avere 
wide open ; the town clock tolled out the 
strokes of eleven ; she was shivering as if in an 
ague fit. Why had not she gone home Avhen 
night came? . Oh, if she Avas only in her OAvn 
bed, Avith the bell on the stand beside her ; 
everybody Avas so far away; she must not 
Avaken Maggie, tired out after the busy day ; 
Avhat strange shadoAVs the trees made. 

She was not shivering noAV, but in a Avash of 
perspiration ; the clock Avas striking tAvelve ; 
Avould it never be morning ? She tried to go 
over the old school-days ; like phantoms they 
disturbed her unquiet brain. What a long hour 
until the single stroke of one sounded. She 
Avould neA^er, never, go aAvay alone again. 
But Avas she alone ? What had Madam 'Nje 
said ? “ God is in his hea\^en.” She took the 
thought and clung to it. He Avas sufiicient. 

When the hour of two sounded there AA^as a 
quiet sleeper at last on the Ioav couch, and the 
work of healing Avas again going on. 


CIIAPTEE XYIII. 


A LETTER AND A SYMPHONY. 

It was two or three mornings later that 
Dolly Yan Dorm came into the dining-room of 
the academy and stood for a moment by its 
open window. It was a pleasant view that she 
looked upon; the same rolling slope to the 
lower town with scattered streets and houses ; 
the same blue mountains in the distance, with 
which Williston dwellers were so familiar. 

But a scene nearer at hand occupied her 
thought now. The large trees stood on the 
slope a little distance from the building, but 
quite close to it and near the dining-room, was 
a bunch of lilac bushes that afforded a shady 
retreat for almost the entire home party. 
Here, in two rocking-chairs, sat the two in- 
valids, Mrs. Storms and Jessie Smith ; for 
Jessie’s hopes were realized, she could get 
downstairs now, and spent almost the entire 
time out of doors. It was better times with 
Ma’am Bly ' too, as with the aid of a crutch 
and Marne Edson’s young arm she had been 
able to hobble out, and sat now, her peaceful 
face leaning against the high backed chair, the 

285 


286 


JEAN^S OPPORTUNITY. 


picture of rest. On the bench sat Mrs. Smith 
with ever busy fingers, and Mrs. Parsons 
equally intent on sewing for the little ones. 

No one there had improved more than this 
same poor woman. Rest from intense care 
and overwork, and good wholesome food, had 
effected wonders, and developed that pride 
and tidiness that had once belonged to Mark’s 
“ Dean girl.” She was fashioning over a gar- 
ment for one of the little girls, and under Mrs. 
Smith’s directing guidance there could be no 
slighting. 

On a shawl spread on the ground Marne 
Edson had placed herself with a book, and 
Baby Max who was manifesting an inclination 
to use his small limbs to some purpose, had 
frequently to be picked up from his pursuit 
after stones and straws, and put back again on 
his carpet. 

“ Jean's summer work has been to some pur- 
pose,” mused the onlooker by the window, 
nodding with smiling “ Good-morning,” to the 
group. “These are not the same pale, dis- 
couraged persons they were even when I first 
came. If they had had nothing more than 
these few weeks of rest and pleasure, how that 
has brightened life for them. The ‘ day by 
day duty ’ is a great duty after all, and has 
blessed reward.” 


A LETTER AND A SYMPHONY. 


287 


Then Miss Yan Dorm closed the outside 
green shutters, turned the slats to soften the 
sunlight, and sat down. She had come this 
morning to write a promised letter for Maggie 
to her mother left in ‘‘ ould Ireland.” It was 
astonishing, the things Dolly found to do in 
these “new days.”; She had been in the 
kitchen and taken notes of the desired mes- 
sages, and came in here to write because it was 
cooler, and at the same time near to her dic- 
tator. 

She was trying to construct some form of 
letters that should agree with the sounds from 
Maggie’s lips when she gave her the name of 
the town in the old country where her mother 
resided, when she heard some new voices, and 
glancing between the slats, saw Agnes Storms, 
with little Lottie bright and freshly curled, 
coming to join the outdoor party. 

“ Why, my dears, how did you get here so 
early ? ” asked Mrs. Storms, between the rap- 
turous hugs and kisses the child showered upon 
her. 

“ Oh, we got up very, very early, didn’t Ave, 
Lottie? and Lottie has helped me all the 
morning, mamma ; Aviped the dishes, every 
one almost, she did ; and dry, too.” 

“ And never break-ed one,” put in the child, 
stopping to run after Max. 


288 


JEAN^S OPPORTUNITY. 


“ Where are the Parsons girls, mamma ? I 
promised Lottie she might play with them a 
little while, and she brought her doll, you see, 
to-day ; ” for Lottie had come the day before 
with empty arms. 

“ They are on the other side of the house, I 
think,” her mother answered. 

“ May Max go too ? ” pleaded the little girl. 

“ Oh, yes, do let him,” from Marne, “ he’s 
livelier than a centipede this morning.” 

So the two children went around the corner 
together. 

“ How did you rest last night, mamma ? ” 
asked Agnes. 

“Nicely, dear; couldn’t have done better. 
Only waked once all night, and that rested 
me. I have slept well since the first night.” 

The writer beyond the window was busy ; 
the name was finally spelled after a fashion, 
and Miss Yan Dorm went on — 

“ Dear Mother : 

“ I am well when this leaves the lady’s 
hand and hope it will find you the same.” 

“ Let me say when this leaves my hand, not 
‘the lady’s,’” Miss Yan Dorm had suggested, 
but Maggie objected. 

“ Is it chaiting I’d be, and make the poor 


A LETTER AND A SYMPHONY. 


289 


old lady think I’d got the accomplishment of 
writing since I came to Ameriky ? No ; tell 
her it’s the rale lady’s sindin’ it ; she’d think a 
hape more of it.” 

It did not take long to write all ; the in- 
structions had not been many. 

^ “ Is it a book I’d be after sindin’ her ? ” re- 
turned the girl when asked for more. “ Faith, 
she’d be wonderin’ whose time I was after 
takin’, and if there was nothin’ better to do 
here than to flourish a stick of a pen.” But 
she did not mean to be uncomplimentary. 

One .message she gave two or three times 
over. ‘‘ Tell Micky there’s byes here in plinty, 
but they didn’t come from the county Limer- 
ick, and that is the county for the flne byes.” 

Then Dolly added a sentence of her own. 

The lady wants to tell Maggie’s mother, that 
there is not a better or more faithful girl in 
America than her own Maggie,” and the brief 
epistle was flnished. 

In and out there had come to the writer’s 
half comprehension the words of those out- 
side. Now, as she sat waiting for Maggie to 
return from her upstairs duties, the words of 
the speakers shaped themselves to her ear. 

‘^I was a teacher for three years,” Mrs. 
Smith was saying, “ and they are very de- 
lightful years in memory. All in one place, 


290 


JEAN^S OPPORTUNITY. 


and only a district school, but district schools 
then were more than now, as there were only 
private schools besides, and those were expen- 
sive. I had pupils, both boys and girls, older 
than myself, and formed some pleasant friend- 
ships among them. There was one boy, seem- 
ingly not the brightest, and the circumstances 
of his life were all against him, but I became 
interested in him because of his spirit of hard 
work. Why, there was no ‘ let go ’ to him. I 
remember his coming in one morning as ex- 
cited as could be ; he had worked until four 
o’clock over one example.” 

“ Did he get it ? ” eagerly from Agnes. 

“ Of course he did ; I made up my mind 
then that there was something to that boy 
and I must help him, and I often stayed Avith 
him until dark after that. One night, it Avas 
snoAving, and Ave had Avorked on arithmetic al- 
most as long as Ave could see, and someAvay, 
Ave drifted into a little personal talk, and I 
asked him Avhat he Avas going to be. 

“ He said he did not know ; as far as he 
could see there was not much in life Avorth 
living for anyAvay. 

“ That shocked me out of my reserA^e, and 
before I kneAv it I Avas speaking to him of 
God and the Bible. I never could talk about 
those things Avisely as some can, but he lis- 


A LETTER AND A SY3IPH0NY. 


291 


tened quietly, said he had never given that 
much study. I asked him if he would do so, 
and after some hesitation, he said he would 
take time, some time. 

“ The next morning I was busy at my desk 
and it was just time to call the children, when 
I saw a hand lay a soiled bit of paper before 
me. I opened it and read, ‘I believe in the 
Bible, and promise to live by it as well as I 
know how, from this time and forever. — 
John.’ 

“ It was night before I could see him alone. 
‘Yes,’ he said then, ‘I read it all night, last 
night, and I made up my mind.’ ” 

“ And what became of him ? ” asked Marne, 
after a long moment of silence. 

“ Oh, yes, that was what I commenced to 
say. He has been pastor over a city church 
for years. There are four hundred or more 
members. He works just as hard there as 
ever. Yes, teaching pays wonderfully.” 

“But all do not turn out so well, Mrs. 
Smith,” from Agnes. 

“ Oh, no indeed ; there are discouragements, 
but I know you would enjoy it.” 

“ Well, I know what I would like to be,” 
put in Marne Edson. 

“What?” 

“ A nurse.” 


292 


JEAN^S OPPORTUNITY. 


‘‘ Oh my ! ” 

“You’d make a good one, dearie,” from 
Ma’am Bly. “ You’re dretful handy round a 
sick room.” 

“That is so,” added Jessie Smith, with a 
bright smile. “ Why, if I was covered with 
feathers Marne wouldn’t ruffle one, she’s so 
gentle and soft like. But it must be very hard 
work.” 

“ I don’t care if it is,” persisted Marne, “ I 
like it. I never thought till I came here any- 
thing about it. Some way, it seemed as though 
folks came to be what they were just as it 
happened, same as those weeds in the fields 
over yonder come up where they chance to, 
and have to live their life out right there. I 
wasn’t particularly fond of selling goods over 
a counter ; why, I don’t mean to find fault 
Avith it ; it’s good enough, and I’d got to make 
my bread and butter, poor enough that last is 
usually too Avhere I board, but there wasn’t 
anything satisfying in it, I mean. I never 
thought as Avork could be that till I came here 
and saw some things that I have. Why, Miss 
Hallock seems to enjoy Avorking around here, 
and the Miss Van Dorms, too, and I knoAv they 
are not obliged to do it. They could laze 
around same as other rich girls in fine dresses 
if they Avanted to ; I used to think that Avould 


A LETTER AND A SYMPHONY. 


293 


be the height of happiness ; but I believe now, 
if I only knew how to be a good nurse, that 
I’d rather work than not ; that I’d like to be 
of some use in the world. But, of course, I 
cannot,” with a little sigh. 

“ What would you like to be, Mrs. Par- 
sons ? ” Mrs. Smith asked, in her soft, gentle 
way. 

But Mrs. Parsons shook her head, — “ I 
couldn’t ever be anything in the world,” she 
said. “ I’d be satisfied if I had a little bit of 
a home, I’d get on with four rooms easy, 
where I could keep the children together and 
decent ; and then, if we had a new stove that 
didn’t smoke and had a reservoir on to hold 
hot water, and could have good butcher’s 
meat once or twice a week, and a little garden 
around the house, and a few hens, it’s all I’d 
ask; I don’t know anything more satisfyin’ 
than to go out and find a nest o’ eggs you 
wasn’t expectin’ to, or to see little fluffy chick- 
ens a trottin’ around with their mas. They 
know most as much as folks, hens and chick- 
ens do ; see the little things when they’re tired 
or hungry, how they’ll stand right in front of her 
and look up in her face and tell her about it, 
same’s mine do me. And when they go to 
bed at night, and the old hen sits with a little 
head peepin’ out between every inch or two of 


294 


JEAN'S OPPORTUNITY. 


feathers, and a singin’, actually singin’ them- 
selves to sleep. Oh, they’re cute ! 

“ It’s what we used to plan for, and a cis- 
tern, and all, when we was keepin’ company ; 
but some way — some way — he’s kind o’ dropped 
out.” 

There was true pathos in that closing tone 
that told of volumes of disappointment, and 
Ma’am Bly spoke up cheerily, 

“"Well, dearie, perhaps the Lord’ll let you 
see all that yet.” 

“Yes,” Mrs. Parsons returned, brightening 
up, “ Jaky says I shall; and Jaky’s a good 
boy. He don’t seem rushing nor drove ever, 
Jaky don’t, but some way he gets there. And 
he paid Miss Ilallock three dollars last Satur- 
day, to go as far as ’twould toward board. It’s 
all he gets a week, but that’s ‘ better than a 
slap in the face,’ as m'y father used to say. 
And Miss Hallock said, says she, ‘ Jaky, I’ll 
take it every other week, and the other turn 
you must keep it, to get shoes and things.’ So 
Jaky Avas satisfied.” 

It was true ; Jean had not dared discourage 
the independent spirit of the boy. 

“Well, I used to have my aims and ambi- 
tions, a good many of them, too,” remarked 
Mrs. Smith. “ But when I lost m}^ husband 
and home, and Jessie her health, I found they 


A LETTER AND A SYMPHONY. 295 

had been pretty narrow ones, and I had to 
look up something better. I found it one day 
when I was reading ; it was called a ‘ Sym- 
phony of Life.’ ” 

‘‘ What’s that ? ” asked Mrs. Ely. 

“ I’ve seen that word on the play bills,” put 
in Marne. 

“ Yes, it means a ‘ harmony of sounds.’ 
Here it meant a harmony of living. I liked it 
so well that I learned it, and it has helped me 
many times since.” 

“ Oh, tell it to us, please ! ” begged Agnes. 
Mrs. Smith complied, and repeated — 

“ To live content with small means ; 

To seek elegance rather than luxury. 
Refinement rather than fashion ; 

To be worthy, not simply respectable ; 

And wealthy, not simply rich ; 

To study hard, think quietly. 

Talk gently, act frankly ; 

To listen with open heart to birds and stars, 
To babes and sages ; 

To bear all cheerfully, do all bravely ; 
Await occasions, never hurry — 

In a word to let the spiritual life 

Grow up through and above the common — 

This to be my symphony of life.” 

I like that about the birds and stars,” said 
Mrs. Parsons. 


296 


JEAN^S OPPORTUNITY. 


“ It’s good to be worthy as well as respect- 
able,” from Ma’am Bly. “We’re all right if 
it’s only on the inside. There won’t be any 
mistake about us then.” 

Agnes was taking the words down while the 
others talked. “ I never expect to be rich,” 
was her thought. “ I must make my best of 
what I am.” 

Miss Yan Dorm had heard with no qualm 
of conscience. They knew she was there if 
they had forgotten. Now, at Maggie’s step 
on the stairway she rose and went to the 
kitchen to meet her. 

“ I have heard some wise words spoken on 
great hotel piazzas,” she said to her friend 
Jean, later, “ but I learned this morning that 
all the wisdom does not go with fine gowns, 
or the thought with those who have leisure 
for study. And I picked a little heart’s-de- 
sire, too, that I mean to transform into a 
heart’s-ease. We must give that bright Marne 
Edson her longing, and make a nurse of her. 
Only, how many such opportunities I must 
have let pass by in that gay life of mine.” 


CHAPTER XIX. 


LITTLE MUFF. 

The hotel at Williston was not one of the 
modern, new-stjle, balloon constructions. Its 
beginning was lost in the early days of the 
town, when stage coaches running between 
the far north and the cities near the sea, 
stopped here for “refreshment for man and 
beast.” 

What an important hour of the day that 
was, when the four sleek steeds, panting from 
their long climb up the steepest hill to be 
found in that vicinity, were drawn up with a 
grand flourish of reins and crack of whip, 
before the entrance door ; how mine host 
hastened out with smiling face to welcome 
the stiff and weary travelers ; what a crowd of 
loungers were always waiting, with open mouth, 
to hear the latest news ; perhaps of Washington 
and his troops, or the old Continental Con- 
gress perchance, seeking to bring peace and 
unity from many discordant elements. 

Those days were forgotten now ; the town 
on the hill was set back by the busier one at 
the foot ; “ transients ” were no longer enter- 

297 


298 


JEAN'S OPPORTUNITY. 


tained ; the original house had settled into a 
dignified repose ; had added deep, two-storied 
balconies ; then another long building across a 
narrow street, and connected the second stories 
by a covered corridor mostly of glass that 
blossomed in plants and flowers ; then flanked 
itself with long wings, and threw out two or 
three square windows, and framed itself in a 
setting of velvety lawn that made a charming 
scene of the whole. Yet, large as it was, in 
the summer time it was always overrun with 
guests, and many of the neighbors, with 
houses larger than their means, took lodgers 
into their pleasant rooms, as an easy way pro- 
vided by Providence to eke out the latter. 

This had been the case when the Misses Yan 
Dorm decided to tarry for some time longer 
in Williston; they found a home room in a 
large corner chamber of Miss Kip’s colonial 
mansion, second house from the hotel ; their 
meals they would take in the hotel dining- 
room. And to this room their trunks had 
been transported from Jean’s early on Friday 
morning. 

An hour or two later, it was the same morn- 
ing that Miss Yan Dorm was writing for 
Maggie, Jean called with Dilly and the phae- 
ton to take Lena to ride. 

‘‘ It does not seem right at all to have you 


LITTLE MUFF. 


299 


anywhere but in my own house, so long as 
you are in Williston,” Jean said, as Lena 
tucked her pretty cotton frock away from the 
dust. 

“ Ko, and I feel lost and forlorn yet. But 
then, it is one of the longest visits that I ever 
knew Dolly to make in her life. She has a 
great fear, so long as she cannot return the 
hospitality in kind, of trespassing upon others’ 
kindness.” 

“ Lena, do you suppose Dolly ever could like 
any one well enough again to marry ? ” 

“ I do not know, I am sure. She never seems 
to think anything about that for herself, 
though she has often told me that she hoped 
I would find some one and make a home of 
my own. But, dear me, I trust that is far in 
the distance. I have good times now, and I 
never saw any one yet I would leave Dolly 
for.” 

They had taken a long road around to Lower 
Town. It went quite out of one village and 
came back into the other in a sharp angle ; 
the houses were scattered here and they met 
few vehicles. 

“I like this road,” Jean said. “It seemed 
so strange, but I had a friend visiting me one 
summer ; she was from the city and one would 
think that she would have enjoyed getting out 


300 


JEAN'S OPPORTUNITY. 


where there was a little nature. But, dear 
me, no ; whenever we went to drive she would 
rather go up and down our busiest streets than 
to get out where there was the least bit of 
country. I brought her out this way once, 
and she wanted to know what I chose such a 
wilderness drive as this for. It always seems 
to me, Lena, that something is lacking in one 
that can see no beauty in nature.” 

“I know; as though the paltry works of 
men could equal what God has done. And 
yet, how little we really know ourselves of its 
wonders. I often think that if we gave one 
half the time to studying the things about us 
that we do to our fashion plates, how much 
wiser we would be.” 

“And more quiet and restful,” returned 
Jean. 

They had crossed over a short hill and were 
nearing the turn when a curve in the winding 
road brought them upon Avhat seemed some 
trouble. A sleepy looking horse and a grocery 
cart were drawn up at the side, and on the 
grass, a boy was kneeling, evidently at work 
over something. 

Jean stopped as near as she could to the 
group. “What is the trouble, little boy?” 
she asked. 

The boy lifted his head. To their surprise 


LITTLE MUFF. 


301 


they saw a tear-stained face, and it was 
Jaky’s. 

“ Why, Jaky Parsons ! ” both exclaimed. 

“ O Miss Hallock,’’ cried out the boy, more 
quickly than they had ever heard Jaky speak 
before, “ see here, this is my kitty ! ” and he 
thrust before their astonished eyes the most 
bedraggled and forlorn specimen of the genus 
feline one could imagine. 

“ What do you mean, Jaky ? ” and Jean in- 
voluntarily drew back from the dripping ani- 
mal. “ Where did you get that ? ” 

“ It’s mine. Miss Hallock. Anyway it was, 
when we lived up to the little house on the 
mountain. When we come away I gave it to 
Mrs. Carr ; but it wouldn’t stay, she told me 
so, and she didn’t know where it went. And 
it loved me, it did,” and the boy’s tears flowed 
afresh. 

“ How did it come here ? ” 

“ I s’pose it’s been looking for me, miss, and 
when I came along here just now I saw two 
boys, I know ’em, mean old town things ! a 
plaguing this cat; they was throwin’ it out 
into that there pond,” pointing to where the 
small brook had filled to its edges a circular 
little basin, “and when it would get out 
they’d throw it in again. I told ’em to let up 
on that but they just laughed; then I see 


302 


JUAN’S OPPORTUNITY. 


’twas my Muff, and she knew me, too, she 
yowled right out, and I went for ’em with my 
whip, and that madded ’em, and they threw 
her up in the air, and she came down on a 
stone and broke her leg ; and just then they 
saw your carriage coming, and was afraid and 
run away.” 

Jaky’s tongue was unloosed for once in its 
life. 

“ Oh, she isn’t drowned then,” as the boy 
turned his forlorn treasure round for inspec- 
tion, and elicited a most mournful howl. 

“ No’m, but she might’s well be if her leg’s 
broke,” with another sob. 

But by this Lena was out and seated on the 
grass, the carriage mat on her lap. Jean was 
in the phaeton still. A little way back Billy 
had been roused by the near report of some 
sportsman’s gun, and, gentle as was the crea- 
ture, there was too much spirit in her to be 
trusted on the open highway without some 
proper reminder of bit or rein. 

‘‘JSTow, let me have her, Jaky,” and poor 
kitty was tenderly laid on the soft lamb’s 
wool mat. She really seemed too thin to utter 
such a sharp “ Meow ! ” as again greeted their 
ears. 

‘‘ Most starved, poor little thing ! ” and Lena’s 
handkerchief was busily rubbing the moisture 


LITTLE 3IUFF, 


303 


from the soft maltese coat while Jean’s was 
passed down for a drying towel. “ Can’t its 
leg be mended ? ” 

“Don’t s’pose so, no’m. ’T wouldn’t keep 
nothin’ tied on to hold it stiff.” 

Lena gently lifted the white-tipped forepaw. 
“ Why, it’s its arm,” she said. “ It would be 
real pretty, Jean, if its bones were not quite 
so much in evidence ; do you think they could 
ever get well covered ? ” for by this time Dilly’s 
nose was fast to a fence post and her mistress 
had joined the others. “ What can we do for 
it ? Don’t you believe if I tied up the arm it 
would grow together ? ” holding up the mem- 
ber that drooped limply from the kneejoint. 
Even Lena would not have called it an elbow 
joint. 

“ I don’t know.” 

“Well, I will try it,” tearing her dainty 
handkerchief in two, while Jaky’s tears were 
dried on his dusty face at such a prospect of 
help, and kitty looked at them with large 
mournful eyes as though questioning why so 
much trouble must come to her, and uttering 
now and again plaintive murmurs, half meows 
and half sighs. “How, Jaky, you hold her 
still and I will try.” 

Jaky was preparing to undertake this dif- 
ficult feat, when a voice close beside them 


304 


JEAN^S OPPORTUNITY. 


startled them all. “ What is the matter here, 
ladies ? Can I be of any assistance to you ? ” 
was the question, in a full tenor tone. 

“ O Max ! ” “ O Mr. Levison ! ” were the 

two exclamations and answers. 

“ See this poor kitty, Max,” from Jean. 

“ She’s broken her arm,” from Lena. “ What 
can we do for her ? ” 

“Eight in my professional line,” from the 
newcomer. “ Perhaps I may be permitted in 
such an exigency to operate, even without the 
saving ‘ M. D.’ ” 

“ Do mend it if you can. Max.” 

“I believe she understands everything we 
say; see her look at you with those beseech- 
ing glances,” remarked Lena. “ She would be 
a beauty if she was only dry and clean. See 
what lovely fur she has.” 

Something just then, perhaps it was a glance 
at the wet and muddy animal, caused the un- 
fledged physician to turn aside and cough two 
or three times gently. Then he turned back 
to business. 

“ Here, boy, you had better hold this patient. 
Is it your cat ? ” 

“Yes, sir.” 

“ Lay her down on the mat. Steady, now. 
Here, puss, let’s see what is the matter. Why, 
it’s dislocated, that’s all.” 


LITTLE MUFF. 


305 


What’s that, sir ? ” 

‘‘Out of joint. Now then, hold her still. 
Don’t let her bite either of us.” 

“ I’ll hold her head,” Lena said, quickly, and 
wound her fragment of handkerchief around 
kitty’s neck and held it tight. 

“ Good ! ” said the young man, “ that will 
keep her mouth in place.” 

He lifted the paw gently, felt softly all over 
it, then there was a quick motion, a snap, one 
frantic yowl and twist from the poor subject, 
and it was over. 

“ There, that is all right, I guess,” the oper- 
ator remarked, with professional pride beam- 
ing all over his face, “ it was a clean slip.” 

Jaky was still holding on with a grip that 
nearly brought the hollow sides together, but 
Lena had loosened her bandage and was softly 
stroking the furry head, while kitty herself, 
again in possession of her paw, was licking 
and biting the injured joint. 

“ Is she all right now, sir ? ” Jaky asked. 

“ Yes, you had better keep her as quiet as 
you can for a few days. Tell the mice to keep 
out of hearing ; and I would advise unlimited 
doses of lacteal fluid and a few grains of ce- 
reals, or the like.” 

The boy gazed at him with open counte- 
nance. 


306 


JEAN'S OPPORTUNITY, 


“ He means bread and milk, Jaky,” remarked 
Jean. “What a quiz you always were, Max! 
I will see to that, Jaky.” 

“ Will you, miss ? Cos, I must be goin’ ; I 
don’t know what the boss Avill say, but I’ll tell 
him how ’twas, and he can dock my pay, you 
know. ’Twon’t matter this week. Miss Hal- 
lock ; this is my week ; I haven’t got to have 
shoes yet, you know. These ain’t very bad.” 

“We will take Muff home with us, Jaky, and 
feed her. I think she will stay. You will find 
her there to-night.” 

And the boy, with a cluck to his sleepy horse, 
was off. 

“ One of your proteges, Jean ? ” These two 
had gone back to the old habit of names during 
the summer’s intercourse. 

“ Yes ; a good boy, too ; making of a presi- 
dent in him. How did you come to be here, 
Max?” 

“ Out botanizing,” and the young man pointed 
to his tin case he had thrown from his shoul- 
ders. But his eyes strayed often to Jean’s 
friend, who still sat on the grass, mat in lap, 
and the late patient reposing on it. 

Kitty had ceased her attentions to herself 
and lay now quiet, occasionally lifting her eyes 
to the hand that was softly stroking her head, 
as though with thanks. 


LITTLE MUFF, 


307 


“ See, Jean, she is beginning to purr. Hear 
that ! ” and Lena bent her ear attentively. 

“It is only the hollow roaring from the 
vacuum inside that you hear,” remarked Max ! 

“ Poor kitty ! she is hungry — but grateful.” 

“Well, Lena, if we have to get this small 
animal home we may as well turn about and 
go,” Jean remarked. 

So Mr. Levison promptly led Hilly up and 
assisted the young ladies into the carriage, 
Lena refusing to part with her patient for an 
instant, lest it should be frightened and get 
away. 

But Muff manifested no such intention. She 
evidently knew a good thing, and was satisfied 
that even a carriage ride was better than flee- 
ing from dogs and boys, being shaken out of 
breath, drowned in mud holes, and thrown on 
stones. So she lay quiet under Lena’s firm 
hand, and the two went back up the hill they 
had recently come down. 

As for the young man, he stood a moment 
looking after them ; then strapped on his case 
again. 

“ AYell, kitty, I am really quite obliged to 
you,” he mused, as he turned away. “ Didn’t 
she make a pretty picture, though ? sitting 
there with a face so full of pity and kindness ! ” 
But he did not mean the kitty this time. 


308 


JEAN'S OPPORTUNITY. 


That night when J aky came home he was 
escorted by a joyful procession to the kitchen, 
where he found Muff reposing in a basket lined 
with soft rags. She was evidently suited with 
her new quarters, and lifted her soft grey eyes 
trustfully to the group, then yawned, and 
stretched and purred. 

“ What you got on her leg ? ” asked the boy, 
noting the bit of soft muslin about the joint. 

“Miss Lena did that,” explained Phena. 
“ Ma’am Ely told her to. It’s a piece of her 
handkerchief, too. Muff didn’t mind. She 
told her to sew it on tight, and then steep 
some wormwood and turn some on every little 
while. Ma’am said ’twould cure faster. And 
she eats some of it off. But Miss Lena said, 
no matter. And you ought to see her eat once. 
Tom says we’ll have to have a cow now.” 

“ She’s goin’ to sleep in my room,” the boy 
said, lifting the basket. 

“ Sure, and I hope so,” the patient Maggie 
remarked. “ It’s likin’ to see her eat and get 
fat I am, and there’s mice enough in the wall 
to put the flish on her bones, but it’s sparin’ 
her from under my feet I can be and no tears 
shed.” 

So Jaky gathered her to his own warm heart 
that night with complete joy ; and as the days 
went by Muff grew and thrived, and would 


LITTLE MUFF, 


309 


have waxed fat exceedingly, had it not been 
for the amount of attention shown her by Baby 
Max, who thought nothing quite so fine as to 
bury his tiny hands in her soft fur — to the Max 
of larger growth, who found in the slight lame- 
ness that followed her injury sufficient excuse 
for consulting with the young lady who had 
manifested so much interest in his “ first case ’’ ; 
consultations that grew so interesting and 
lengthy, it really seemed that the original sub- 
ject must have been entirely exhausted. 


CIIAPTEE XX. 


A SONG IN PROSE. 

The days of that busy summer had all 
passed by, and the early autumn weeks had 
followed on, and still Jean’s family at the 
academy had not greatly changed. 

Ma’am Ely’s grandchildren had been sick 
with the measles, and one, a little girl of ten, 
had been left weak and miserable and with a 
bad cough. 

“ It would do Ida good, I do believe,” the 
old lady said to her stepson when he called to 
see her, as he did every Sunday afternoon, “ to 
come here and stay with me awhile. She 
ain’t so strong as the others any time, and they 
kind of crowd on her without meaning to. 
Don’t you suppose Mandy would let her come ? 
She could sleep with me, she always lies still 
as a mouse anyway; and I know Miss Hal- 
lock would be glad to have her.” 

Perhaps so,” the son answered. “ Mandy 
thinks a sight of her children, as you know.” 

“Yes, I know that. Poor thing, I wish she 
could have more time to look after ’em, and 
kind of enjoy ’em. And she will Avhen I get 
310 


j 


A SONG IN PROSE. 


311 


back ; I’m so much stronger, and gaining all 
the time ; I’ll be able to take her mendin’ and 
sewin’ right off her hands.” 

“ It’s good to see you so much better, 
mother. And I’ll be real glad to see you 
back,” the man answered, heartily ; ‘‘ and so’ll 
Mandy, too, I knov\r she will, though she don’t 
say much ; Mandy ’s better on the inside than 
she seems sometimes,” apologetically. 

“Yes, yes, William, I know. She’s had to 
work hard all her life, went into the mill when 
she was only ten, and it isn’t everybody as 
can keep a smiling with their lips Avhen their 
feet and backs are always tired out and ach- 
ing.” 

“ But I’ve got work promised for all winter 
this time,” the man went on, “and I hope 
things won’t be so bad as last.” 

“ That’s something to thank the Lord for,” 
the old lady returned, devoutly. 

And quiet little Ida came, and still re- 
mained. 

Mrs. Storms had spent two weeks in the 
bright, pretty room; weeks that sent her 
home wonderfully improved, and, above all 
and best of all, her thoughts had been taken 
from herself and could now be interested in 
others, and that is a long step forward for 
nervous sufferers. 


312 


JEAN'S OPPORTUNITY, 


Miss Smith had come out each Saturday 
night, returning to the city by early train 
Monday, finding each time Jessie improving 
and happy as the day was long. It was she 
too, who had found two more girls, one a 
clerk, the other a cash girl, worn out from the 
long, heated summer in the city, and who 
were given two weeks of rest and upbuilding 
in the academy home. 

Marne Edson was still there. Hers had 
been, after all, the slowest recovery. A low 
fever lingered in her veins, and not until the 
more bracing airs of fall did she really begin 
to feel “ like herself.” 

It had been a delightful autumn. Hot even 
the equinoctial storm had disturbed its calm 
greatly. That had the grace to reserve most 
of its wildness for the nighttime. Day after 
day the sun had risen in a clear sky, or, if 
clouds occasionally drifted before it, it was 
only that the glory of the shadows might 
be seen, as they chased one another along the 
mountain-side. Here and there along the hill- 
sides had been set among the dark green, now 
a twig, again a branch or even a full tree, of 
flaming or golden color ; the alders that fringed 
the brooks were sobering to russet hues ; the 
scattered hemlock shrubs were a vivid yellow. 

Sometimes a low sound among the trees, of 


A SONG IN PROSE. 


313 


whistling wind, was like a moan of the beauti- 
ful summer loath to pass by. 

These daj^s too had brought a change to 
Mrs. Parsons. For a long time, the rest, the 
freedom from care, the delight of seeing Baby 
Max grow strong and well, had seemed to 
bring peace and quiet to her worn face. 

But lately a new restlessness possessed her. 
She took long absences frequently, late in the 
day usually, always alone, and seemingly was 
anxious to avoid notice when she started. 

“ Where you goin’ to, ma ? ” It was Phena 
as usual who turned up in the unexpected 
places. 

Mrs. Parsons was hastening down to the 
side street that ran below the academy 
grounds, when these words brought her to a 
standstill. 

She turned about quickly. “You go ’long 
back to the house and behave yourself,” she 
said, sharply. 

“ Well, where be you goin’ ? ” 

“ Goin’ to find some work,” the mother an- 
swered, more quietly. “ Don’t you know this 
house’ll be closed up for cold weather pretty 
soon, and then where’ll we be ? ” 

“ Oh, Miss Hallock’ll take care of us.” 

“ Guess she won’t, forever.” 

“ Well, Jaky then.” 


314 


JEAN'S OPPORTUNITY, 


‘‘ Jaky’ll do as well as he knows how.” 

“Well, what you goin’ off that way fur? 
that’s a good ways round.” 

“ I^ever mind ; I’ve got an errand. You go 
back now and behave yourself, and I’ll find a 
penny for you somewhere, see if I don’t.” 

Reluctantly, Phena turned back — as far as 
the screening lilacs; there she hid herself 
and watched the retreating figure, walking 
with unusual swiftness along the narrow side 
street, until it entered a small grocery kept on 
the outskirts of the town by an enterprising 
German. 

Then she waited a little to see her mother 
come out, but the lively sounds coming from 
the playground were too much for the small 
spy, and she gave up her pursuit after knowl- 
edge, and ran to join in the game. 

Had she been patient a little longer her zeal 
would have been rewarded. Mrs. Parsons did 
emerge from the grocery door, a good-sized 
package in her hand, and after a quick glance 
in every direction, instead of turning down 
toward the village, followed this side street as 
it wound off around the base of the mountain 
out to the open country. Only for a short dis- 
tance, however, before she came to the moun- 
tain road, and after another quick glance about, 
she turned into this. The ascent was not steep 





you were hungry, Abel, dreadful hungry, wasn’t you?” p. 315. 





A SONG IN PROSE. 


315 


here ; there were long, rolling pitches between 
short levels, the road ran between stone walls 
fringed with trees, and there were pastures 
and meadows beyond. 

In a few moments the woman had reached 
the thicker line of woods, that swept almost 
unbrokenly to the mountain-top. Here she 
turned into the undergrowth, and, not a quar- 
ter of a mile beyond, came to a small sugar 
house half in ruins. 

The spot was not far from the place where 
Marne Edson had met her “ tramp,’’ weeks be- 
fore. A tramp was here now ; the identical 
one, with a military coat and a grey patch on 
the elbow. 

Mrs. Parsons did not seem surprised. “ I’ve 
come again, Abel,” she said, ‘‘ and brought you 
something more to eat ; but it’s the last time ; 
let me tell you that.” 

The woman’s face was hard and stern, every 
work-line in it was visible ; the man hardly 
looked at it. He snatched the brown paper 
package and tore it open. There was a loaf of 
bread, and some herring. He broke off chunks 
and devoured them greedily. 

The woman looking on, softened. 

You were hungry, Abel, dreadful hungry, 
wasn’t you ? ” 

“ I’m most starved, Phileny ; I haven’t 


316 


JEAN'S OPPORTUNITY. 


touched to help myself to a thing the whole 
week just as I promised, and I heard the hens 
cackling like everything in Hemingway’s barn 
and knew there was eggs there. But I told 
you I wouldn’t, and I didn’t. I got two break- 
fasts for splitting wood, and that’s all ’sides 
what you left me.” 

The woman made no answer. She had 
seated herself wearily after her long walk, on a 
log. It Avas near the edge of the Avood. She 
could look doAvn over the fields Avhere the 
shadows Avere long; there Avas a glimpse of 
one corner of the academy ; the sun Avas shining 
on that still. 

“ Hoav is the little felloAV ? ” the man asked 
at last, half timidly. 

“ Oh, he is cute, aAvful cute,” Avas the ansAver. 

The man seemed to SAvalloAV something. 

“ He Avas too heavy for you to bring along, 

I s’pose ? ” next. 

‘‘ Yes,” then Avith a sudden turn — “ What’d 
I bring him along with me fur ? I’m goin’ to 
raise him up to be a good man, if he’s got it in 
him ; and hoAV much Avould it help him to- 
bring him here? How much did you ever 
help Avith any of ’em, Abel Parsons ? ” ' 

“ I knoAv ; I know, Phileny ; ” the man coav- 
ered as though struck ; “ I haven’t been good 
for much myself, and it’s dreadful hard Avhen 


A SONG IN PROSE, 


317 


a fellow gets slidin’ down hill, to turn about 
and go t’other way. He has to crawl pretty 
slow. And then, when nobody cares, or wants 
him ! ” 

The woman’s face twitched ; she looked hard 
at that corner of the academy wall. Only the 
upper part in sunlight now. 

‘‘ Jaky’s a good boy,” she said at last. 

“ What a pretty little fellow he was,” the 
man said, venturing to take a seat on the log, 
at a respectful distance; ‘‘do you remember 
the first time he walked alone? We stood 
him up by the window, and then you sat one 
side the room and I t’other, and we both held 
out our hands to him.” 

“ And he ran straight to you,” interrupted 
the woman, “and you scolded him, and told 
him he ought to have gone to his ma first.” 

“ Of course ; so he had.” 

“That was when we lived in the Miles 
place,” the woman spoke again, quickly ; “ what 
a pleasant little house that was ; with the sun 
shining in at ’most every window, and a gar- 
den, and currant bushes. And you set out two 
apple-trees too, don’t you remember, Abel ? ” 

“ Yes ; I thought then I was goin’ to buy it 
some day ; but I never did,” sadly. 

“ And I thought I couldn’t scrub and clean 
it enough,” the Avoman put in. “I used to 


318 


JEAN'S OPPORTUNITY, 


polish the windows, and stove, and make 
things shine, and I s’posed then I should al- 
ways keep house just so. But I didn’t, Abel.” 

Again there was silence. A squirrel ran up 
a tree near with his mouth full, and stopped 
to look at the intruders before he whisked his 
bushy tail into the hollow tree belonging to 
him. The shadows were settling over the 
academy corner now. 

“ The Miles place is empty now, Phileny,” 
the man said, at last. 

“Is it, Abel?” 

“ Yes. I went by t’other day. It’s for sale, 
Jim told me.” 

“I wonder if it’s got a cistern?” said the 
woman, after a time. 

“Could have one, easy,” was the ansiver; 
“right in the southeast corner of the cellar, 
you know.” 

“ Abel,” and the woman turned to him with 
a determination he had never seen in her face 
before, “ I want my boys, and girls too, to turn 
out Christian folks. That was the trouble with 
us. I’ve been this summer along with such, 
and I’ve seen the difference. I want ’em to 
go to church and Sunday-school, and keep 
clean, and not swear or drink; and I mean 
they shall, too.” 

“I hain’t no objection, Phileny; I’d help 


A SONG IN PROSE, 


319 


all I knew how. And you know I didn’t 
drink.” 

“ And they’ve got to work, too ; earn their 
bread honest like other folks.” 

“ Mr. Sampson says he’ll give me a steady 
job in his shop, Phileny.” 

“ Will you take it, Abel ? ” and the woman 
turned and looked at him steadily. 

“Yes, I will, Phileny.” 

“ And stick to it ? God helping you ? ” 

A new light flashed in that moment into 
the man’s face. It was like the kindling of a 
soul’s purpose. 

“Yes, I will. If he’ll help, Phileny. You 
see,” the man went on, “ I’ve done a consider- 
able thinkin’ while I’ve been knocking about 
this summer, and I’ve made up my mind tain’t 
the thing for a man with a wife and family to 
be doin’.” That new light was in the man’s 
face as though long-slumbering hope had 
been roused, his stooping shoulders seemed to 
straighten, there was a decided ring to his 
voice. “ I guess I could buy the Miles place 
yet if I set out,” he added, “and as for the 
cistern, I could make that myself ; I can handle 
a trowel ’most as good as a mason.” 

Mr. Parsons had been a carpenter, and called 
a “ handy ” one too. 

“ And if I had plenty of water I could keep 


320 JEAN'S OPPORTUNITY. 

things shinin’ ; and they’re good children. 
Abel, real good.” The woman seemed to 
have dropped ten years from her age since 
she came up the hill. 

The sun had quite gone now behind the 
hills, the aftermath on the rolling slopes lay 
dark, shadows were lost in the falling twi- 
light. 

The woman rose, glanced once more at that 
academy corner, fading from sight now, and 
turned toward the road, — 

“ Come on, then, Abel,” she said, “ we’ll try 
goin’ up hill and down together once more ; ” 
and the man followed her. 

***** 

It was about a dozen days later, that Jean 
and Ethel rode down through the town, be- 
yond the mills, and turned to the outskirts in 
pursuit of the Miles cottage. 

They found the small house, set up from the 
road, with a stony garden and bare row of 
currant bushes, but still looking pleasant in 
the afternoon sunlight. 

There were lilac bushes each side the door 
and three or four apple-trees scattered about. 

Dilly was fastened, and the door was opened 
before they reached it, and Mrs. Parsons, smil- 
ing and bright, with Max in her arms, wel- 


A SONG IN PROSE. 


321 


corned them. The baby was snatched away 
and hugged and kissed. 

‘‘ I do miss him beyond anything, Mrs. Par- 
sons,” Jean said. 

“ So do I,” from Ethel. “ And Miss Lena 
told me to give him twenty kisses for her, and 
this hood,” and a small parcel was opened and 
duly admired. 

When the exclamations were over the girls 
looked about. The square kitchen had win- 
dows on the south and west and Avas sunny, 
and clean as hands could make it. JSTear the 
centre stood the longed-for “ new stove with 
reservoir,” Jean’s gift, and Mrs. Parsons’ great 
delight ; every damper and arrangement had 
now to be gone over and explained, and the 
girls were just about as interested as though 
“ setting up housekeeping ” for themselves. 

“And, miss,” the woman said, “he came 
home Saturday night with his wage of nine 
dollars, and after supper he went down and 
bought a barrel of flour and a ton of coal and 
a bit of meat for the Sunday dinner; and 
we’ve got apples on two trees, and I made a 
pie, and you never see folks so tickled over 
anything. Jaky had been to church and Sun- 
day-school, and so had Linda and Hattie, 
Phena hadn’t any good shoes, and after din- 
ner, Abel, he read the papers they’d brought 


322 


JEAN'S OPPORTUNITY. 


home and some in a book ; he’s a good reader, 
Abel is, and before we went to bed he read 
the lesson for next Sunday out of a paper, and 
we all knelt down and said the Lord’s prayer 
just as we used to with Mrs. Smith at the old 
academy. And it seemed dreadful good, miss, 
it did,” and Mrs. Parsons’ were not the only 
eyes that filled with tears for a moment. 

“Are you studying fruit catalogues, Mrs. 
Parsons?” Jean asked, seeing one open on a 
table. 

“ Jaky is. His pa and I sed he could have 
one dollar of his own wage and he’s goin’ to 
have one of those monstrous apples, and some 
others, and a pear and two grapes. And he’s 
goin’ to night school three evenings a week. 
And Jaky’s set on what he’s goin’ to be, too.” 

“ What ? ” eagerly. 

“ A builder ; of factories and churches, and 
such. And I’ve got one wash a week. Abel 
says I can’t do any more ; that’s Mrs. Samp- 
son’s, and I’ll get a dollar and a half, and get 
Phena shoes first and then things so I can go 
to church, too.” 

The girls made a long call, and as they 
drove away Ethel said, gravely, “Jean, I 
always think of Mrs. Matson’s reception after 
a talk with Mrs. Parsons.” 

“ What do you mean, Ethel ? ” 


A SONG IN PROSE. 


323 


“Don’t you remember we found her the 
night of that reception? And Jean, Mrs. 
Matson had wine that night, and when I think 
of the way her only son drank champagne, I 
Avonder if the day may not come when Jaky, 
the builder, who says he will never drink a 
drop of liquor in his life, may not stand higher 
in the world than that dissipated favorite of 
fortune.” 

“ Stranger things than that have happened,” 
Jean said. 

And then as the road curved they turned to 
take another look at the little cottage, again a 
home. The sun shone on it, Mrs. Parsons and 
the little lad were watching from the door, 
the girls waved a smiling “good-bye.” And 
we too, turning away Avith them, take our fare- 
Avell. Some day Avhen good Avork is Avanted 
we may find them again. 

And as they rode aAvay Jean recited softly, 

“ Hast thou, my Master, aught for me to do 
To honor thee to-day ? 

Hast thou a word of love to some poor soul 
That 1 may say ? 

For see this world that thou hast made so fair 
AVithin its heart is sad ; 

Thousands are lonely, thousands weep and sigh, 

But few are glad.” 


CHAPTER XXL 


STILL LOOKING FORWARD. 

“ Through upstairs, are you, Maggie ? ” 

“ Yes, Miss Hallock. It’s only shining up 
the sink below, and putting a polish on the 
stove, and giving a sweeping to the kitchen 
and pantry, and a few such I have. I’ll be 
through by dinner time.” 

“ Yery well; leave the key with Thomas, he 
will be here through the day, and Mr. Atkins 
will send two men this afternoon to move the 
piano.” 

“The fire went out in the furnace yester- 
day,” said Maggie. 

“ I will tell Thomas to see that everything 
is safe and closed tightly.” And then Jean 
followed up the stairs and down the halls that 
sounded hollow to her resounding step, to 
where the sound of girls’ voices came to her 
ear. 

She found them in the “ Smith ” rooms. 

“Like ghosts of days departed,” quoted 
Lena to her as she entered. 

“O Jean, I am so sorry the summer is 
over and gone,” was Ethel’s greeting. “ Can’t 
we begin it over again ? ” 

324 


STILL LOOKING FORWARD. 


325 


Dolly Van Dorm looked up from her rock- 
ing-chair with a smile and “ Good-morning.” 
The four had met by appointment this morn- 
ing in the deserted academy, for the “ final 
services,” as Ethel phrased it. “AVe are cer- 
tain of keeping our ‘good thing’ now,” she 
said. “Memory will hold it for us. If we 
were only looking forward it might fail us.” 

“ That is so. Now, Miss Yan Dorm, tell us 
all about how the Smiths are situated. We 
have been waiting for you, Jean. What de- 
tained you ? ” 

“ Mr. Shearer and his bills,” smiling. 

“ Are you bankrupt in purse, Jean ? ” 

“ Oh no, and rich in almost the first compli- 
ment Mr. Shearer was ever known to utter.” 

“ AVhat ? Oh, tell us ! ” pressed the girls, but 
Jean was mute as a sphynx. 

“ I will tell you what grandma said, then,” 
put in Ethel, finally, and in spite of laughing 
protests she went on. “She say-s she thinks 
Jean Ilallock will find considerable treasure 
laid up for her when she comes to the king- 
dom.” 

The girls were quiet. “I wish I might,” 
Jean said, simply and earnestly. “Do you 
think,” she asked, “that it can be wrong to 
wish for that ? ” 

“I do not see how it can be,” Miss Yan 


326 


JEAN^S OPPORTUNITY. 


Dorm answered, ‘‘ when we are commanded, 
more than once, to lay up our treasure in 
heaven. It cannot be wrong to look forward 
to finding it there. And I remember some- 
thing that Mrs. Smith once said. We had 
been reading of some gay and brilliant society 
affair, and she said, with a smile, ‘My turn 
has not come just yet ; but by and by I expect 
to share in much finer things than that.’ She 
seemed so quietly waiting, as it were, for the 
right time, that it impressed me greatly.” 

“ And it gives such a zest to work,” added 
Lena, “ to have such a hope in it. ‘ Our life is 
made broader by our hopes,’ Dr. Eliot said, 
and I believe that.” 

“What a lovely Christian she is,” mused 
Ethel aloud. 

Again there was silence. Dolly broke it. 
“About the Smiths? Yes. It will do your 
hearts good to see them. The sale was com- 
pleted ; I now hold the deed of a piece of real 
estate and house in Winfield, eight miles from 

T . There are five rooms; a good sized 

parlor and a bedroom below, and two cham- 
bers above; then a small kitchen and wood 
shed are built on at the back. Mrs. Smith 
and Jessie have each a single bed in the 
sleeping-room below, and Miss Smith has her 
room upstairs. She gets out there before 


STILL LOOKING FORWARD, 


327 


seven at night, and goes in at sev^en in the 
morning.’’ 

“ Does it look pleasant ? ” 

“ Yery cosey, now their furniture is settled. 
They have some good things left still, though 
they are old and not worth much. We had 
dinner on a small round table in one corner of 
the parlor, with a homemade screen to shut it 
off.” 

“ And they are happy, I know.” 

“Yes, it would do you good to see Jessie. 
To live where she can walk right out of doors 
on to the ground makes her bliss complete. 
They have a small yard, and a porch with 
seats at the door. I found her waiting there 
when I got off the train. You can see the 
station from their door. And then the quiet 
nights. I really hope it may prove better 
health to all; I know the rest will to Miss 
Smith, tired as she is from standing most of 
the day. 

“ What does her physician say of Jessie ?” 

“ That her gain is wonderful. He does not 
hold out entire cure to her, but he does think 
that the fresh air, and ability to move about 
in it, will prevent any further progress of the 
disease. And she can use her hands now, and 
Miss Smith procures the knitting of fancy 
things from the store, and the little money 


328 


JEAN'S OPPORTUNITY. 


thus earned is another source of thankful- 
ness.” 

When the falling leaves of October had told 
them that the “summer home” must be 
broken up, and Jessie’s eyes grew mournful 
with the thought of going back to their three 
upstairs rooms in the crowded city, Miss Yan 
Dorm had said — “ For my mother’s sake you 
must all let me do something to brighten the 
lives of these ‘ widow and fatherless ; ’ ” and 
this had been the result. “It is not half as 
much as a few weeks in Newport would have 
been to us,” she had said to Lena, “but I 
think the satisfaction will bear no compari- 
son.” 

“ Yes, Miss Yan Dorm is a changed Avoman ; 
she’s converted through and through,” Cousin 
Wealthy often said to herself. 

They all left the room presently, draAving 
doAvn the shades and closing the door softly 
behind them. They opened a door again, of 
Ma’am Ely’s room. 

“And the old lady really has gone home to 
a Avelcome, Maggie tells me,” said Lena. 

“ Yes,” responded Jean, “ I think her daugh- 
ter-in-laAv is glad to have her back. At all 
events, she has put her bed in the parlor and 
given her a room to herself. And there she 
sits, Avith mending basket piled high, and nods 


STILL LOOKING FORWARD. 


329 


to the passers-by, and smiles and sings — really 
sings,” with a smile. 

For the Lord had not seen fit to bless the 
dear woman with any talent for “ harmony.” 

“ And girls, what do you think ! I had a 
present last night ; Jaky brought it,” Jean said, 
as they passed downstairs to the pleasant par- 
lor. 

“ What was it ? ” “ Do tell ! ” 

“Oh, a picture of Baby Max. Jaky said 
the}^ had all wanted one so, and his father had 
a chance to work overtime one night and gave 
them the fifty cents he got for it, for that. So 
they had two tintypes, and really he looks 
very cunning, with Muff hugged tightly in his 
arms, and her eyes looking out as bright as 
his.” 

“ Muff, did you say ? ” 

“Yes.” 

“ Keally, then,” from the mischievous Ethel, 
“ I think Lena should have had that ; not you.” 

They all tried not to smile. But it was a 
failure, and a ringing laugh relieved the ten- 
sion, and woke the echoes of the old building. 

For Muff’s hurt had been the beginning of 
such a pretty little romance right before their 
eyes. When the two girls drove away that 
day, leaving the embryo physician standing in 
the road, he had looked thoughtfully after 


330 


JEAN'S OPPORTUNITY. 


them. “Well, I have learned something from 
that kitty,” was his comment. “ A girl with a 
heart as interested as that in a little suffering 
animal, cannot be a mere puppet of fashion. 
Must be genuine somewhere.” 

When he found it necessary, frequently, 
after that, to counsel and advise in regard to 
the injured member, it was always with Lena 
Yan Dorm. Until, not even a shadow of ex- 
cuse being left. Muff having become one of the 
liveliest kittens in town, and, under the special 
privileges she enjoyed, fast verging toward 
one of the sleekest, he boldly dropped all pre- 
tences, but came all the same — to see the 
young lady. 

She looked very pretty now as she stood by 
the window opening out on the drive, the color 
coming and going in her fair cheek. Uo one 
could wonder that Max Levison admired her. 

“ Has any one seen Agnes lately ? ” Ethel 
asked, presently. 

“Yes, she called last night,” from Jean. 

“ Busy in school, I suppose ? ” 

“Yes, she entered last Monday. Maggie 
will begin work there to-morrow, and Agnes 
expects then to give nearly all her time to 
study.” 

“ How does she stand ? ” 

“ She has not lost as much as she feared. 


STILL LOOKING FORWARD. 


331 


Helping her brother Don as she has, has been 
of great assistance to her now.” 

“ Can she graduate in June ? ” 

“ Hot as she ought, and I have prevailed upon 
her not to try. She will either take another 
year here, or go elsewhere for some seminary 
training.” 

“ Was Marne with her ? ” 

“ Ho, she had stayed for extra work. She is 
in the grammar room, not in the highest class, 
either. But I saw her teacher the other day. 
Miss Y^^ne, and told her what Marne wished to 
accomplish ; a fair, common education, and 
then to enter upon hospital training. Agnes 
says she is very happy and contented.” 

The arrangement sounded simple now, but 
it had required many hours and persuasive ar- 
guments to effect. 

“I always looked enviously at teachers,” 
Jean had said to Agnes Storms, “ and wished 
that duty seemed to call me to be one. It did 
not, but the next best thing is to fit some one 
else to be. You have the same longing ; let 
me help you as I can, and when you are a suc- 
cessful professor in some college chair, why, 
pass it on to some one else, and I shall be fully 
repaid.” 

How, Agnes had a bank book and an ac- 
count to meet it, Maggie was hired to lift the 


332 


JEAN'S OPPORTUNITY, 


domestic burdens and give Mrs. Storms time to 
fully recover, and the daughter had gone back 
to the familiar halls, and in the evenings helped 
her brothers and the boarder with their studies. 

The ‘‘ boarder ’’ Avas Maine Edson, through 
Lena Yan Dorm’s gift, on her Avay to her 
heart’s desire of becoming a nurse to the sick, 
best of all, a Christian nurse. 

“ Somebody is driving up,” Lena said, turn- 
ing away from the open window, the flush on 
cheek deepening ; Ethel sprang to her side. 

‘‘ Oh ! nobody but Max Levison,” shasaid. 

But the young man had seen the two faces 
at the window, and lifted his hat, Avith smile 
and bow. 

“Are you not in need, young ladies, of a 
little fresher air than you can And in that 
ancient temple of learning ? ” he asked. 

“ I am,” his Cousin Ethel responded, 
promptly, “but my friend here has a slight 
cold, or did have once upon a time.” 

“ Nothing like an ozone tonic,” the young 
man returned, gravely. “ Let me advise both 
of you to get in here and aAvay, as soon as 
possible.” 

The merry trio drove aAvay, sending back 
parting Avords to the tAvo noAv standing by the 
AvindoAv, until their voices were lost in the 
distance. 


STILL LOOKING FORWARD. 


333 


“It is settled, Jean,” the elder said then, 
turning to the other. 

“ Is it ? Do you care ? ” 

“ hlo, I am glad. A year ago I could not 
have felt so. I should have been very indig- 
nant if any one had tried to win my sister 
away. But I do not feel so now.” 

“ Max is a good fellow,” said Jean, “ I have 
known him always.” 

“ Yes, I can trust him with the dearest 
thing I have in the world. And she will be 
happy ; I am glad for her.” 

“ But are your own plans for the present de- 
cided ?” Jean asked, presently. 

“ Yes, I received a letter from Hew York 
yesterday, in answer to mine.” 

“ You will go there to spend the winter ? ” 

“ Yes, but not at a five-dollar-a-day hotel 
this time.” Jean looked her interest. 

“When Lena was small,” Miss Yan Dorm 
went on, “ she had for a year, a nursery gov- 
erness, a bright active little lady, who married 
then a clerk in one of the large stores. They 
were ambitious to own a home of their own 
some time outside the city, and after their two 
boys came, they took a large house and the 
wife kept boarders, and supported the family 
in that way and so saved the husband’s salary. 
But he died soon, and then the wife went on 


334 


JEAN'S OPPORTUNITY. 


in the old place ; has given her boys good 
educations, and does well, I think.” 

“ Where is it ? ” 

“Up town, in a quiet neighborhood, accessi- 
ble by the Madison Avenue cars or the ele- 
vated. I stopped there once, when on a shop- 
ping trip and with no time for social calls.” 

“What will your fashionable friends say, 
Dolly ?” Jean called her so sometimes when 
alone with her. 

“ What they please,” and the lady drew her- 
self up in something of the old haughty way. 
“ It is not a shabby place,” she added, “ the 
parlors are large and pleasant, the service and 
table good, and she has a pleasant class of 
boarders, some of them have been there for 
years. As for my friends ! Well, I hope there 
are some sensible people among them. And as 
for the others, I shall have no time for them.” 

“ What are you going to do, Dolly ? ” 

“I hardly know yet, Jean dear. There are 
two ladies boarding there, and have been for a 
long time, each of them principals in Indus- 
trial -Schools. I was interested in the little I 
heard them tell of the work, and I think they 
can open wa3^s for my hands and service. If I 
was interested then, much more now since I 
have learned the pleasure of doing for others. 
If they tell me of a sick or suffering woman, 


STILL LOOKING FORWARD. 


335 


Jean dear, I shall try and find, and help her. 
That may not seem much, only one person, 
but it may open out the way to others. I 
shall try and stand ready, day by day, to do 
what I can find and make some one better and 
happier for my having lived. And in time, 
after I have learned the much I need to, I 
may be able to open some systematic service ; 
I would like it to be in the way of helping 
girls, who have been denied in making what 
they wished of themselves, to become of use 
in the world. A denied life seems such a pa- 
thetic thing. It has ever since I heard the 
plaint of Agnes Storms that night. That was 
a revealing night to me, Jean dear. Only 
three months ago, and it seems as though I 
had lived years since. As for fashionable 
friends ! ” and the lady rose and seemed to 
shake them from her garments as she walked 
back and forth, “I have given them thirty 
years of my life, and that suificeth. When 
one thinks, reasonably and calmly, of what 
this life means, and then, how we are willing 
to expend all our soul’s energies upon things 
that do not satisfy for a day, is it not strange 
that we are so blind ? ” 

“ I understand that,” Jean said, softly. 

Miss Yan Dorm went on, “My property is 
large, Jean, larger even than is usually sup- 


336 


JEAN^S OPPORTUNITY. 


posed. It has been well invested. But I can- 
not see why this relieves me of obligations to 
others, why, because I have more than oth- 
ers, I should be expected to do less ; to take 
no interest in anything outside of myself and 
my own pleasures. Why, if I can give up 
care for bread, and work of my hands, I see 
now that my thoughts and educated mind 
should go with a consecrated soul into the 
study of the great questions of the day, how 
humanity can be lifted up, and helped, and 
saved for Christ. I have only lately learned 
this, Jean, but I purpose to make it my 
thought hereafter. I may not join a settle- 
ment, or a mission. Perhaps I have a work 
among those same fashionable friends. But, 
Jean dear, you have shown me that to use an 
opportunity, as it comes in one’s way, may 
bring more blessings than one expected.” 

And she smiled brightly on her friend. 
These two understood one another. 

A tap at the door and Maggie appeared, hat 
on, satchel in hand. 

“It’s going I am now, misses,” she said. 
“ I’ve done the last thing I can find. And it’s 
thanking you I am for the pleasant summer 
I’ve had with yees, and for Tom too, and all.” 

“O Maggie, it’s you that we thank,” and 
Jean smiled brightly; “why, I don’t see how 


STILL LOOKING FORWARD, 


337 


we could have gotten along without you. Do 
you, Miss Van Dorm?” 

“ Indeed I do not.” 

“You have been just as kind and good as 
you could be, Maggie, and 1 know the con- 
fusion and bother have been very trying a 
great many times,” Jean went on; “I hope 
you will find your blessing for it.” 

“ Sure, and I have that a’ready,” the warm- 
hearted girl responded. “ It’s enough to see 
the face of yees smiling on me for a blissin’. 
And may it always be smiling and niver 
troubled.” 

“We must be going, too, I suppose,” Jean 
said, when they had watched the retreating 
figure down the drive. 

“Yes. We leave to-morrow, and I fear I 
shall have little assistance from Lena, in pack- 
ing,” with a smile. 

“ Why so soon, Dolly ? ” 

“ Our room is ready at any time, and we ex- 
pect friends by the next Cunarder who were 
with us for some time on the ‘ other side.’ Will 
you be in IS’ew York this winter, Jean?” 

“ I hope to, for some weeks. Like yourself, 
studying — society.” 

“ We will be together, then, Jean. Shall you 
open this dear old academy another year ? ” 

“IS’ot next year, myself. A letter from a 


338 


JEAN^S OPPORTUNITY. 


charitable society asks for it for sick mothers 
with small children, or sick children with their 
mothers. I think I shall finish fitting it up 
and give them the use of it. Our little venture 
did nicely for once, with dear Mrs. Smith and 
Ma’am Ely to keep things moving smoothly. 
But after those two girls came later for the 
two weeks, with their city independence and 
gossipy tongues, I realized that a thing of 
this kind needed a head, as Cousin Wealthy 
had often said. There must be a matron, and 
constant overlooking. There is an idea float- 
ing in my brain, of some day seeing a Conva- 
lescents’ Home here; those discharged from 
hospitals, half well, but with no place to fully 
recover. Marne Edson gave me that. But 
time will tell. I am glad I had this little 
opportunity, and did not let it pass by. I have 
a whole sheaf of pleasant memories left me.” 

“ How, just one, dear,” and Jean turned her 
friend toward the open piano. Softly Dolly 
Yan Dorm ran her fingers over the keys. 
Jean laid an open book on the rack. The 
beautiful voice, that had charmed so many, 
took up the words, — 

“ Gather them in ! for yet there is room 
At the feast that the King has spread ; 

Oh, gather them in ! — let his house be filled, 

And the hungry and poor be fed.” 


STILL LOOKING FORWARD. 


339 


And Jean’s smooth alto joined in the re- 
frain ; a charge to these two. 

“ Out in the highway, out in the byway, 

Out in the dark paths of sin, 

Go forth, go forth, with a loving heart. 

And gather the wanderers in.” 


Then with lingering glance they went out, 
turning the large key in the lock that gave 
back its old-time echo, and then to the other 
building to consign it to Tom. 

The brilliant coloring that for weeks had 
made the mountains a marvel of beauty, had 
faded ; patches of evergreen set off the bare- 
ness of tree and shrub ; the withering leaves 
rustled under their footsteps as they went 
down to the street ; but in their hearts re- 
mained a beauty greater than the summer 
time; a memory that would gild with glory 
any season ; a hope that made bright all the 
days to come. 



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